The Undeniable
by b-w-williams
Summary: Ianto's been acting twitchy recently and Jack decides to find out why – but Ianto fights him every step of the way and Jack can't fathom this sudden lack of trust.
1. Chapter 1: Tuesday

Title: The Undeniable – Part One

Summary: Ianto's been acting twitchy recently and Jack decides to find out why – but Ianto fights him every step of the way and Jack can't fathom this sudden lack of trust.

Warnings: Language, slash, some violence, light BDSM, moderate non-con. (Also Gwen is a bit of a plot-device in this story. Not intentionally tho, so don't think I'm a Gwen basher!)

Pairing: Jack/Ianto, Ianto/OMC

Series: Sequel to The Uninvited. (However it is not necessary to have read that story to understand this one.)

Timeline: Set after 'A Day In The Death'

A/N: This story includes a subject that I have no *personal* experience with, however it is something I hinted at in the Uninvited and decided would be fun to explore in its own story. If I seem naive with some details, that's because I am, but hopefully the story will not suffer for it. I won't tell you any more because it will ruin the surprise ;) Enjoy! (Oh, also totally not beta'd, so excuse any typos.)

* * *

The object was matt black and shaped like an over-sized peanut M&M. At least that's what Gwen had decided upon seeing it, but then she _had_been complaining of feeling hungry at the time. Ianto had been a little more reserved when he'd logged the item's discovery into the Hub's database; describing it as a two-foot long ovoid without any defined edges. It was apparently constructed from a single sheet of unknown metal and the only marking upon it was a faint line etched around one end with no apparent purpose.

Jack stood in front of the workbench, arms folded across his chest as he contemplated the unusual pod. He'd never seen anything like it before and there was nothing in the archives to give them a clue as to its origin or function. It had come from about ten metres down in the ground, brought to the surface when developers of a new apartment complex had begun digging the foundations the previous week. As finds went, it wasn't the most outwardly exciting, but Tosh had leapt upon the challenge and spent every spare minute in the lab submitting the metallic pod to test after fruitless test.

Ianto appeared silently at Jack's side and it was only because of his experience with the young Welshman's ability to materialise out of thin air that Jack didn't embarrass himself by jumping in alarm. Ianto didn't say anything in greeting, merely leaned forward to study the pod with the vain curiosity of someone who knew there was nothing new to be found by looking, but simply couldn't help himself.

"See anything?" Gwen asked from Jack's other side. She'd been standing there for the past five minutes, attempting to emulate Jack's method of glaring down an enigma until it announced its raison d'être just to stop his intense scrutiny.

She'd so far had as much luck as Jack himself in this case.

"Nope," Ianto replied, sounding entirely disinterested, despite having his nose practically squashed against the dull surface.

Gwen gave a disappointed sigh. "I hate this kind of mystery. It's like a really odd-shaped present under the Christmas tree and you want to shake it just to find out what's inside. Only shaking this thing does nothing at all. It doesn't even make a noise, like when you accidentally break the crystal fruit bowl your Mam had bought specially for your Nan to replace the last one you broke..."

Jack could see the minute twitches in the muscles of Ianto's face that meant he was biting back laughter. The young man glanced out the corner of his eye at Jack, knowing he would have seen it, then turned a perfectly impassive expression towards their colleague. "You were a terror as a child, weren't you, Gwen Cooper?"

"Yeah, but I was a great little actress too," she told him, winking conspiratorially. "No one ever believed I was trouble because I could pull the best innocent act of all my friends and siblings."

"Ah, I see. Now I know who to suspect the next time the biscuits disappear."

Gwen giggled guiltily. "There were only a few left. And I was in desperate need of a chocolate fix, honest."

"I know," Ianto assured her. "That's why I've put an extra packet in your bottom drawer for next time."

Gwen's eyes widened in glee and she dashed off towards her workstation, shouting a thank you over her shoulder as she went.

Jack grinned at her retreating back, then turned his attention to Ianto. His smile softened with fondness as he studied his lover, who was still examining the pod as though nothing special had just happened. But Jack knew otherwise.

There weren't many people who truly believed in the concept of 'less is more'; who knew that small and thoughtful gestures were often appreciated more for their sincerity than big displays meant only to impress. There were even fewer who adopted the trait naturally into their lives, but Ianto was undoubtedly one of these rare individuals. Whilst he tended to the team's official requirements as his contract dictated, he also went the extra mile and provided those subtle personal touches that made all the difference in the world.

Whether it was catering for Gwen's sweet tooth, providing a sounding board for Tosh when everyone else had zoned out, bickering with Owen to allow the doctor to vent safely, or any of the countless other invisible services Ianto wove into his daily routine, it was all done without the expectation of being thanked or even recognised for having done anything at all. Jack suspected Ianto wasn't consciously aware of half the things he did, nor realised just how much it meant to the others, even if _they_ didn't realise how much it meant to them either.

"You're looking at the wrong thing," Ianto said quietly, tilting his head to peer at the etched line from a different angle. "We already know what I am. It's the pod we need to figure out."

Jack's smile expanded again. "I don't think anyone will ever really know what you are," he said, the words tumbling from his lips without a thought.

Ianto's pretence of aloofness melted away as he turned bemused eyes towards the Captain. "That's either very profound or very rude," he said cautiously.

"I get that a lot," Jack countered. "Must be something in the delivery."

"Hmm," said Ianto. "Must be."

He returned his gaze to the pod and fell silent again. Jack's grin faltered when it became apparent that Ianto had no intention of asking which of the meanings applied to his comment. He cursed inwardly; not because of what he'd said but because Ianto's reaction – or lack thereof – was yet another entry to add to the mental list Jack had recently been compiling.

The list that documented all of Ianto's increasingly uncharacteristic behaviour.

Deciding to push a little harder, he leaned over to murmur in the young man's ear. "Let me guess," Jack began, "you're just _itching_ to dust it."

The corner of Ianto's mouth, which Jack was watching carefully, curved upwards slightly. "No, I'm not."

"What's that in your hand?"

Ianto glanced down at the item he was holding. "That would be a feather duster, Jack," he replied evenly.

"Well unless you've developed a new kink, surely that means you intend to dust something," Jack said, encouraged by the petulance in Ianto's tone. He pressed closer, wondering if physical contact was the key, but Ianto tensed and took a step away from him.

"I do not have _kinks_," the young man said, biting out each word as though wary of getting one of them wrong somehow.

His expression closed up and Jack noted the change with alarm, taken aback by the sudden shift from nonchalant to offended in the blink of an eye. He frowned in confusion, but at the same time could not help but feel some degree of victory as well, because he'd unwittingly struck a nerve. For just a split second he had seen true emotion flash in Ianto's blue eyes and that was a rare thing indeed these days.

It had started a few months ago, after Ianto's body had been used by a mind-hopping alien with a grudge against Jack. He'd been trapped inside his own head, watching himself betray his colleagues and friends, even hurting them on one occasion.

To make matters worse, the alien had also messed with his senses; causing him to feel things he would never normally feel, including an insane lust for one Captain John Hart and an impossible physical pain every time Jack touched him.

Since that incident the young man had been rather more withdrawn than usual and, whilst it was a perfectly understandable reaction under the circumstances, Jack had two reasons to be worried about him.

First was the fact that enough time had passed for Ianto to have gotten over losing control of his body. Even though Jack knew Ianto _hated_ being out of control, that he prided himself on his mastery of all things including himself, he had regained that control in a very empowering way and should have moved on by now.

The second reason was one Jack did not like thinking about at all, and it was one unique to Ianto. Had it been anybody else acting overly quiet and introvert, Jack wouldn't even have needed to number his concerns. But it _was _Ianto, or at least a version of Ianto, and Jack was forced to admit that this guarded facade was one that he recognised.

And that recognition was the true cause of his worry, for it harkened back to a time when Ianto was still new to Torchwood Three.

He'd been a far more reserved man back then, focusing solely on his work and content to linger at the edge of the team, an invisible and entirely non-threatening entity. The problem was that he had been withdrawn not because he was the new recruit employed only to clean up and help from the sidelines, but because he had a secret. A dark and deadly secret he couldn't risk exposing by getting too close to his new colleagues.

Now that he seemed to have adopted that wary persona once again, Jack couldn't help but fear that it meant he had another secret to hide.

Jack had been watching him carefully for the past few weeks, taking note of the way Ianto would deftly go about his day, no less competent or thorough in his work than before, but with a distance in his eyes that hadn't been there for a long time. When he joked with someone Jack could tell it was half-hearted, though the others didn't seem to notice. About the only time Jack could be sure he saw honest emotions in Ianto's eyes anymore was when they were alone together, but even the atmosphere during those moments had changed, with Ianto restless and eager and sometimes even irritable.

Jack had so far discovered no real explanation as to this curious development and although he sometimes did wonder if he was over-reacting, the memory of steel-wrapped death emerging from beneath his Hub assured him there was too much at risk if he ignored his instincts.

"Here," Tosh said, abruptly cutting through Jack's disturbing contemplations. He blinked, mind returning to the present to find he was still staring at Ianto, who in turn was staring resolutely at the pod and ignoring Jack's heavy gaze.

"Huh?" asked Jack, looking over to Tosh. Her hand was extended towards him, six plastic earplugs sitting on her open palm, whilst the rest of her attention was on a laptop perched beside the pod, her free fingers tapping rapidly away at the keys.

"If you're going to stick around, you'll need these," the tech wiz explained. "I'm going to start testing with some sonic frequencies and you won't want to be nearby without these."

"Huh?" Jack said again, only to be kept from further explanation as Ianto reached across and nabbed two of the plugs.

"You put them in your ears," the young man said dryly and once again Jack found himself wrong-footed by Ianto's reaction. How the hell could someone jump from impassive to affronted to sarcastic so quickly and make it seem perfectly natural?

Jack took a pair of earplugs for himself and slipped one into place. He held onto the other, not wanting to miss anything else that might be said, and noticed Ianto doing the same. "So what number is this on the list then?" he asked Tosh, instead of responding to Ianto's mocking.

"Sixteen," she said, tapping one final key before looking up from the monitor, apparently done with it.

Jack waited for her cue to put his other earplug in but she didn't move. He tilted his head at her. "Are we ready?"

Tosh nodded. "I thought we'd wait for Gwen to get back."

"She is rather excited about it," Jack agreed. "Even after all these fai-" Tosh's dark eyes flashed and he quickly amended his choice of words, "-_fab_ulous tests that haven't gone wrong at all, no sir!"

"I'm excited about what?" Gwen asked, reappearing in the gap between the two men and saving Jack from a death-by-scowling. She stuffed the remaining half of a biscuit into her mouth, at which point realisation apparently dawned. "Oh, that, yes!" she said, trying to swallow and speak at the same time.

Tosh handed the last pair of plugs to Gwen then fitted her own and Jack hurried to put his second one in too, watching Ianto as he did so. A slight hint of disgust had creased the young man's brow at Gwen's poor manners, but it had vanished almost instantly and Jack was half tempted to break a few rules of etiquette just to see if he could get the same candid reaction.

A sharp squeal, muffled by the earplugs, interrupted his thoughts and he allowed himself to be distracted by Tosh's experiment, not entirely sure that he should be considering forcing Ianto out of his current stony disposition by insulting his sensibilities.

Working from her laptop, Tosh changed the pitch of the noise at regular intervals, hoping to hit a note that would open the container. If it was indeed controlled by sound. And if it actually _did_ open, of course.

Ten minutes later and the frequency had reached so low that Jack was positive his entire body was physically vibrating. The pressure in his head was verging on painful and he was immensely grateful when Tosh stopped the programme and tugged out her earplugs in defeat. The other three did the same, faces tight with discomfort.

"Well, that was fun," declared Jack, working his jaw as though trying to pop his ears. "Perhaps we could pipe that stuff through the comm. system on quiet days to make sure we all stay awake."

"Thank god we don't have quiet days," Ianto muttered. He rubbed at his temples and Jack automatically sidled closer.

"Headache?"

Ianto nodded, still rubbing small circles over his skin.

"You know what they say about how to cure headaches..." Jack said with a wink.

Ianto gave him a heavy-lidded glare and Jack grinned before turning back to Tosh. "Onto number seventeen, then?"

"Definitely," Tosh agreed with a determined glint in her eye, animated by the persistent challenge.

Gwen was leaning over the pod as they spoke, a disappointed pout on her face. She poked at the strange object. "I bet there's nothing in it," she said. "It could just be solid metal. Did we x-ray it?"

"The sensors couldn't penetrate the surface," Tosh explained. She began pulling out a coil of wire from a drawer, most likely for whatever number seventeen entailed. "But logic dictates there's a compartment inside, otherwise what purpose could it have?"

"It could be art," Ianto suggested, straightening his already impeccable tie. Jack had always taken that gesture to be one of anxiety, but there was nothing for him to be anxious about right then. Was there?

Gwen made a rude noise. "I don't think much of their taste then," she said. "Whoever _they_ are." She prodded the metal oval again then jumped back in surprise as the lid toppled off onto the desk with a hiss of compressed air and a heavy 'clunk'.

All four of them stared at the now divided object.

"Uh," Gwen began cautiously, "yay me?"

Tosh recovered quickly and whipped out a portable scanner. "One of the frequencies worked after all," she said excitedly. "The top must have been stuck."

Emboldened by the other woman's reasoning, Gwen stepped forward, moving aside the lid and peering into the container with undisguised fascination. "Oh," she exclaimed. "Look!"

Everyone else bent their heads. There was a small square of empty space, the back of which was lit by a display of tiny coloured lights, blinking frantically at them in random patterns.

"Pretty," said Jack. "But obviously whatever it's meant to hold wasn't put inside."

"Unless it wasn't meant to hold anything. The lights could be a control system for whatever this thing does," Tosh said thoughtfully. Her gaze was still fixed on her scanner.

"Maybe. Work on it, but it isn't a priority, okay?"

"Mm-hmm," Tosh agreed, already tuning everything out but the new mystery.

Jack grinned at her enthusiasm, catching Ianto's eye to share the amusement. The younger man smiled back, though it seemed more than a little strained.

* * *

The rest of the day passed slowly, with a distinct lack of alarms or crises or anything else of interest to occupy the team. As the hours dragged on, Jack continued to obsess over Ianto's behaviour. Though the incident of his over-reaction earlier was nothing major, nor new, it had triggered something within Jack which could not be settled. No matter the harmlessness of the situation, he was through merely accepting Ianto's method of dealing with his problems.

* * *

Ianto pushed open the door to the underground car park and hurried over to his car. He could feel his shoulders hunching with tension, part of which was due to guilt over the flimsy excuse he'd just given Jack in order to get out of the Hub in the middle of the afternoon.

Chest constricted with discomfort and an almost tangible pressure following him out of the secret base, he slid into the driver's seat and sat there for a few seconds, relishing the feeling of escape that came with simply being inside a vehicle that could take him anywhere he wished to go.

Once the impending panic attack was safely deflected, he fished out his mobile and punched in a number from memory. It rang twice before it was answered.

"Hi, it's Ianto," he said anxiously. "I know it's only Tuesday but-"

"But you've had a bad day?" the voice on the other end of the line guessed. "It's okay, you're welcome to come over. You know I keep my afternoons free for emergencies."

"I know, thanks," Ianto sighed, the weight already beginning to lift from his shoulders. "I'll see you in a few minutes."


	2. Chapter 2: Wednesday

A/N: Sorry for the delay, I had trouble with this chapter and I'm still not happy with the pacing, but never mind, I want to get past this onto the good stuff so I'm posting it anyway ;) Also forgot to say in the first chapter, this story is set after 'A Day In The Death'.

A/N 2: Crash_n_Burn, I can't reply to your review privately! Many thanks for the kind words and keep an eye out for that 'subject' ;)

* * *

Gwen tumbled through the door into the Tourist Office well after her usual time of arrival. "Hi," she slurred, causing Ianto to glance up from where he'd been fastidiously arranging leaflets on the counter.

"Out late last night, were we?" he teased, taking in her pale face and the circles beneath her eyes.

"No," she protested weakly. "I think I'm getting the flu or something."

"Ah." Ianto moved a tiny step backwards as he reached for the button that opened the Hub's concealed entrance. "How about I make you a Lemsip?"

Gwen smiled gratefully at him. "Oh God, that would be perfect. Could you?"

"Of course. Let me lock up here and I'll be right down."

"Thanks, Ianto." Gwen shuffled over to the door, then paused to look back at him with narrowed eyes. "It only takes a second to lock up. You just don't want to get in the lift with me, do you?"

Ianto gave her an innocent smile. "The thought hadn't even crossed my mind."

Five minutes later, he set a steaming mug on the desk by Gwen's elbow. She was slumped forward, head resting on her folded arms and her eyes shut tight. Ianto smiled and tentatively placed a hand on her shoulder, feeling slightly uncomfortable at the personal gesture. "You should be in bed," he said. "Why don't you go home and I'll let Jack know you're ill."

Gwen shook her head as best she could without lifting it from her arms. "I'll be fine," she told him. "I'm just tired."

Frowning, Ianto moved his hand to her forehead. "You're burning up." Gwen tried to dislodge him, but Ianto held on, noticing something else as he did so. "What's this?" he asked, brushing aside her hair to better see her left arm. There was a small discoloured patch of skin trailing from the back of her hand up onto her forearm, the surrounding flesh lined with the tell-tale red marks of relentless scratching.

"Just a rash," Gwen mumbled, trying to return her head to the pillow of her arms.

A sinking feeling settled over Ianto and he removed his hand. "I'm going to get Owen."

* * *

Owen turned away from the slumbering form and carefully climbed the steps up from the autopsy bay. As had become his new habit, he kept one eye on the floor and the other on his hands and the towel with which he was drying them. It was perhaps one of the most frustrating things he had to deal with since his 'resurrection'; having to look at what his body was doing because he couldn't feel _anything_, not even the ground beneath his feet.

It wasn't a problem he admitted to the others – the fact he had to teach himself to walk all over again was not something he felt like sharing with his colleagues – so instead he was especially careful to stay aware of his surroundings.

At the top of the steps he swung a sharp left towards Jack's office, tossing the used paper towel towards his desk as he passed and clenching his fist in celebration when it dropped directly into the bin beside his chair. His victorious grin faded as he stepped into the office and caught sight of the worried faces within.

"Bad news," he announced, forgoing any preamble. "It's that Rash-ese disease again." He grimaced as he said it and glared at Ianto. "We've really gotta stop letting you name things."

The younger man shrugged. "It produced a rash," he countered. "And, if I recall correctly, you found it funny at the time."

Owen rolled his eyes. "Oh sure, 'cept you asked my opinion when I was hopped up on painkillers."

"How did Gwen get it?" Jack asked, absently pushing aside some papers on his desk. "And why didn't we? Wasn't it highly contagious last time?"

Ianto reached across to pull the papers back in front of the Captain. "Sign them," he told him firmly. "And yes, it was. It spread between us within a couple of hours of skin-to-skin contact. If we're not showing any symptoms she must have been exposed to something we haven't encountered ourselves yet." Realising something, Ianto lifted a hand and squinted at his palm. "Well I definitely touched her earlier, so it looks like I'm out of the hunt for whatever caused this. The question is, has anyone _else_ touched her or me since she started to feel ill?"

"Gwen said Rhys is away on an extended stag-do or something, so we don't have to worry about him, and of course I don't count," Owen announced cheerfully. "I've got a get-out-of-the-frustratingly-itchy-rash card, right here." He tapped his chest, directly over the bullet hole that would never heal.

"How wonderful for you," Ianto said dryly. "I don't think you've touched me today, have you, Jack?"

The Captain pouted. "No, you've been extra slippery this morning."

Ianto ignored his sulky response and took another step away from the desk. "Okay, well if Gwen's got the medical bay then I guess I'll go quarantine myself in one of the guestrooms. I'm sure you won't mind making house calls to me there Owen, as you're so fortunately resistant to the disease." The medic gave him a dark look but Ianto had already turned to Jack. "You'll have to fend for yourselves for the next few days, but I'm sure you'll survive. Oh, but if you could remember that Gwen and I need to eat as well, I'd appreciate it." He fixed each of them with a pointed look, making sure they remembered how hairy things had become the last time they'd all been exposed to the virus. Especially when the supply of food in the locked-down Hub had began to run out...

"How about you _don't_ quarantine yourself and Tosh and I just avoid touching you until you're all better again?" Jack suggested, pulling a face at Ianto's words.

"Then you'd definitely catch it, wouldn't you? Sorry, Jack, I'd rather sit in a room by myself for five days than deal with you whining about being itchy." Ianto smirked at Jack's mock outrage and deftly stepped out of reach when the older man made a grab for him.

He left the office and began to gather up a few things to keep himself entertained whilst he was isolated, far from enthusiastic about shutting himself away but aware from experience that it had to be done; if they all caught the virus again then Torchwood would be out of commission for the better part of the week, possibly longer.

* * *

Jack tentatively prodded the mug Owen had just deposited on his desk with the end of a pencil. The dark liquid inside quivered but barely moved, reminding Jack of the thick viscous excretions that came out of a Mynark's reproductive glands. Having become closely acquainted with that substance once before in his lifetime, the Captain wasn't very eager to repeat the experience at all. He shoved the mug away, and then a further inch to the side for good measure, lest the 'coffee' inside decided to make its own way out of its ceramic prison.

"A-_hem_."

Jack glanced up to find Owen glaring at him and he shrugged, unrepentant. Immortality might bring him back from a coffee-related death, but it certainly wouldn't remove the memory of the taste.

The doctor rolled his eyes and slid further down in his chair. Beside him, Tosh was engaged in a very curious form of twitching that involved both her body and her face and Jack had to resist the urge to laugh.

"So it was in the pod?" he asked, though that had already been established moments earlier.

"Bet you regret giving Tosh free reign over that thing now, eh?" Owen said.

The older man lifted an eyebrow. "As if I could've stopped her." He grinned over at the woman in question, who was still performing some kind of dance, or perhaps it was a new type of aerobics, in her chair. "Besides, I'd say she regrets it more than me."

"AH!" Tosh cried out, surging forward as she contorted an arm around to the middle of her back and began scratching furiously. "The more you talk about it, the worse it gets!"

Jack bit back a chuckle. "But this _is_ purely psychological, right?" he pushed Owen, because Tosh was doing a very good job of convincing him otherwise.

"Yeah, she's fine. I ran her samples three times because she didn't believe me either and they all came out negative."

"So why didn't the internal sensors pick up the presence of the virus when we opened the pod?" Jack flipped his pencil between his fingers, attempting to distract himself from the slight tickling at the back of his neck.

"Because the sensors only recognise airborne oddities and this ain't one of them," Owen said, folding his hands behind his head and looking rather stiff as he did so. Jack eyed him with sympathy for a few seconds before Owen noticed the pity and scowled back at him.

"Okay, that makes sense I suppose, even if it does highlight a gaping hole in our security around here." Jack frowned and turned his attention back to Tosh. "But why is Tosh clear of the virus?"

"Two possibilities," Owen replied immediately, having clearly already considered the question. "One: Gwen came into contact with a part of the pod that Tosh didn't."

"Unlikely," Tosh said, now rubbing her back against the chair like a bear at its favourite tree. "I worked with it for hours but she was only there when it opened. I can guarantee we touched the same things."

Jack had to agree it was a bit of a stretch to think otherwise. "Second possibility?"

"Second possibility is that Tosh simply wasn't infected by the virus this time."

Jack's frown deepened; that seemed almost as much of a stretch as the first option to him. "And that could happen?" he asked dubiously, to which Owen gave him a rakish grin that told Jack he already had an answer for that.

"It could happen if she has an immunity to the virus. One she developed after, say, being exposed to it previously..."

Ah. Jack nodded sagely, approving Owen's speculation despite having no real knowledge of such things. There was a reason why he had a medic on the team after all. "Okay, so, that's good, right? It means we're all immune to it. Apart from Gwen, of course, who'll just have to suffer like we did for that horrible, _horrible _week of which we shall never speak again." He tapped his chin thoughtfully, a plan forming in his mind. "We could tell her it's another part of her initiation and see if she still buys that line, like last month with the Orli eggs."

Tosh pulled a face at the memory – though it could've been partly due to her phantom itches – and Owen smirked openly. Jack grinned as well, relief easing his concerns that the team would be overrun by the frustrating, if harmless, ailment. Gwen wouldn't have a good week, but at least Torchwood wouldn't be entirely compromised again.

"So Ianto doesn't need to be quarantined after all," Jack went on, once again eyeballing the thick gloop that Owen had dared to present him with.

"No, he does," Owen announced with far too much enthusiasm. "We still need to rule out the possibility that Gwen herself is infectious. I should have him all cleared and out of isolation by the end of the day if my theory's correct."

Jack's expression fell as he imagined the rest of the day without a good drink or a great backside to ogle. Oh, it was an improvement on Ianto being shut away for a week, but now that he knew the Welshman was most likely clear of the virus, he couldn't find the patience to wait.

"Fine," he sulked. "Go update him, then get on with those tests. I'm sure a gifted doctor as yourself could get them done much quicker than you think."

Owen crowed with laughter as he left the office, seeing right through Jack's weak attempt to flatter him into compliance. Tosh gave him a tiny smile then followed Owen out, her movements jerky as she valiantly tried not to start scratching again.

* * *

Later that afternoon, in the bare room that he'd claimed as his temporary new home, Ianto was talking with Tosh whilst correcting a report that Jack had apparently written in about ten seconds flat.

The day of isolation had been a surprisingly nice change of pace for the young man, especially once he'd found out he probably hadn't caught Gwen's virus and had stopped worrying about when the infuriating itching would begin. He'd managed to get through a backlog of reports and requisitions and his peace had only occasionally been broken by Owen brandishing a needle or Jack calling over the comms to ask something he really should have known himself.

The more of those needles that made their way into his arm and the more questions that he fielded, the more Ianto considered barricading himself in the room and switching off his earpiece just to get some of the benefits of true isolation.

"I don't understand," Tosh was saying with a sigh. "There's a pattern to the lights, but I can't find anything at all that can tell me what they might mean."

"You've only be working on it for a day, Tosh," Ianto said, typing swiftly as he spoke. "Give it time and I'm sure you'll get there."

"Hmm," she said doubtfully and Ianto smiled to himself.

"Have you eaten yet?"

"Uh..." There was a pause whilst Tosh checked the time. "Oh! No, not yet."

"Why am I not surprised?"

The door swung open suddenly and Ianto looked up to find Owen had barged into the room again.

"You don't even consider knocking anymore, do you?" the younger man asked mildly as he returned his attention to the screen.

"Hey, if you do anything in these rooms you don't want seen, then it's your own fault if you get caught," Owen retorted and Ianto felt his face heat up immediately at the insinuation, though he managed to restrain himself from showing any other reaction.

"I always suspected you were a voyeur, Owen," he said, proud of the control in his own voice. "Sorry to disappoint you."

"This time," the doctor added smugly and Ianto finally threw him a cold look, ruffled by the uncomfortable memory of being caught in a compromising position with John Hart in one of these very rooms.

"Was there something in particular you wanted, Owen?" he asked, his tone all business. "Another pint of blood, perhaps?"

"No blood; this time we're going to have us a little examination. Go on, get yer kit off!"

Ianto blinked across the room at him, a feeling of dread growing in his chest. He was accustomed to Owen's poor bedside manner by now, but the curt command was not what gave him pause; he _really_ didn't want to get undressed in front of the other man right then.

"I don't..." he began, struggling for a good reason to keep his clothes on.

"What, are you shy?" Owen asked. "Or are you worried I'll be so excited by what I see I'll immediately jump you?" He grabbed his crotch ruefully. "No need to worry on that front, mate."

Ianto grimaced, troubled by the reminder of Owen's current not-quite-dead state, but not so much that he'd give into the command to strip out of sympathy. "I'm not itching," he told the doctor instead. "And look, no rash." He pushed up one sleeve of his shirt and waved a pale forearm in punctuation.

With a sigh, Owen stalked across the room and took hold of the proffered arm. Ianto let him, instinctively relinquishing command of the situation, and Owen pushed the sleeve all the way to Ianto's elbow before repeating the action on the other arm. "Good. Now shoes and socks."

"What?"

"Take off your shoes," Owen repeated slowly, "and your socks." When Ianto still hesitated, Owen sighed again. "Look, I'm all for you being prudish, it's not like I harbour any secret desire to get you naked, but at least meet me halfway and show me your damn feet. The rash starts at the extremities, so I have to check hands and feet if nowhere else."

Ianto eyed Owen for a moment longer, both surprised and relieved by his reaction. Whilst he was certainly glad to avoid risking discovery by the other man, he'd never suspected that he would win when Owen had his doctor hat on. He supposed this was another change that death had brought about within the medic, a frustration with the living and their vain habits.

Glad, even if it was at Owen's expense, Ianto quickly slipped off his polished shoes and dark socks before pulling his trouser legs up to his knees and revealing rash-free feet and shins. Owen gave them a cursory look over and grunted in approval.

"How's Gwen doing?" Ianto asked, taking the grunt to mean Owen was content with what he saw and starting to put his clothes back in order.

"No better, no worse. She wanted to get out of bed and I had to sedate her so she could get some rest." Owen shrugged and looked around the room absently.

"That sounds about right," Ianto said. He snagged the suit jacket from the back of his chair and pulled it on, grateful for the additional layer between Owen and his body. "So I can get out of here now?"

"Let me just do one more round of blood tests, then you can come out." Owen began unwrapping a sterilised needle whilst Ianto looked away to hide his grimace. "And for God's sake, make Jack some coffee first. He's been bitching all day about my 'lack of mastery' over that damn machine of yours. It was funny at first, but now I just want to tip the stuff over his head."

* * *

The first thing Ianto did after leaving his self-imposed quarantine, even before considering Jack's coffee, was check in on Gwen. She had apparently been unhappy about staying in the medical bay, so Owen had moved her to one of the rooms along the hall from Ianto's.

The virus had evidentially hit Gwen hard, for she was still asleep on the low bed despite the sedatives having worn off some time earlier. Even from the doorway, Ianto could see the inflamed colour of her skin and guessed that the rash had spread across most of her body already. When she woke she would itch all over and the next few days would be torment for her until the rash began to clear. Although Ianto felt sorry for what she had to come, he didn't mind at all that he wasn't going to experience the same problem himself. Once was more than enough, in his opinion.

Leaving her to sleep, Ianto made his way back to the centre of the Hub, setting his laptop down on one of the desks before moving over to the kitchenette. Jack appeared as soon as the smell of fresh coffee spread through the air, his presence filling the small space and alerting Ianto to his arrival before he'd even spoken. The young man turned to see the Captain's expression was a mix of both suspicion and eagerness.

"So...?" Jack pressed, narrowed eyes darting between Ianto's face and the machine gently whirring away.

"Apparently I haven't got it," Ianto told him. "Well, obviously I haven't got it," he amended, "otherwise I'd be red, blotchy and scratching."

"Good. That's good," Jack said, watching Ianto's hands moving empty mugs and bags of coffee beans around.

"Did you manage to get hold of Rhys and let him know what was going on?" asked the younger man, taking his time preparing the Captain's drink purely for the thrill of making him wait.

"Yeah, he picked up our messages a little while ago, called back and proceeded to shout down the phone at me. For some reason he thinks I'm responsible for all this."

"I think he probably blames you for everything by default," Ianto said dryly.

Jack nodded, still staring at Ianto's hands as he worked, and Ianto fancied that if he drew it out any longer the immortal would start hopping impatiently from foot to foot. He smiled to himself and considered tormenting Jack further, sure he could start something highly inappropriate for the time of day, but his professionalism won out. "Here," he said, handing over the mug at last. "One of these days I'm going to remember that you know how to use this thing and you'll have to get your own."

Jack harrumphed into the scorching hot liquid. "You can't do that, it's in your contract."

"My contract says I have to fetch you coffee even when ill and indisposed?"

"Well, it says you're to do as I command, no matter what."

Ianto cocked an eyebrow at him. "Really? I think I'll have to query that in our next progress review."

"Hey, you begged for this job, you can't complain about the terms of your employment now. Anyway, you're not ill or indisposed and I've been waiting patiently all day for a decent drink."

"Oh yes, you've been very brave," Ianto teased, rethinking his decision not to start something. It was technically almost early evening...

Jack considered him for a long moment in silence, long enough for Ianto to start feeling uncomfortable beneath that penetrating blue gaze. There was something not quite right in Jack's expression, something that shook awake the same bead of panic that Owen had caused to form earlier when demanding that he strip.

"So, crisis averted, hey?" the Welshman said, his voice catching ever so slightly. "Not that I don't feel sorry for Gwen, but I'm glad only she's caught this thing. I foresaw a week of 'I'll scratch your back, you scratch mine' jokes and oven mits taped over our hands." He was babbling and he knew it and any moment now Jack was going to call him up on it.

Jack continued to stare intently at the younger man. "I think we need to talk."

_Shit._ "About what?" Ianto asked carefully. 'Needing to talk' was universal code for 'I want to break up', but he and Jack weren't an item so they _couldn't_ break up. Right?

Instead of answering, Jack tilted his head back towards his office. "Come on," he said and the amicable tone of his voice did nothing to clue Ianto into what they were about to discuss.

Inside the office, with the door closed, the young Welshman watched as Jack moved towards the desk, then turned around instead of sitting down behind it. To Ianto's trained eye that meant it would be a personal chat, one that wasn't work related and yet couldn't wait until they were alone later on. Which did not bode well.

Jack fixed him with a firm gaze. "I need you to be honest with me about something," he said, before Ianto could attempt another nervous quip to lighten the mood. "You've not been yourself for a while now and I want to know what the matter is."

Ianto blinked. _Shit, shit, shit. _"Nothing's the matter," he responded, fighting to keep the alarm from his expression. "I don't know what you mean."

"I know it's been difficult since Lurrelia..." Ianto shuddered at the name, memories of the loss of control over his body causing a heavy feeling of nausea to settle in his stomach. "...but I thought you were dealing with what happened," Jack went on.

"I was," Ianto hurried to assure him. "I am." He shifted uncomfortably under Jack's scrutiny, heart thumping against his ribs. The older man might not have learnt anything concrete that Ianto was attempting to hide, but the fact that he'd noticed something amiss was bad enough. "Should I not be troubled by aliens messing with my head?" he asked, pitching his tone to show his indignation.

"Being troubled is fine," Jack replied, choosing his words with care. "You, however, are infrequently troubled by anything for long, Ianto. You take things in your stride, and if you can't do that, you find a way around any obstacles you might encounter. That hasn't been the case recently."

Ianto's jaw clenched slightly. "Have I been neglecting my work?" he asked.

"No, of course not," Jack told him, waving away the concern. "As always, I can't fault the execution of your tasks." He locked his gaze with Ianto's and the young man swallowed nervously. "But your heart's not in it anymore. You're going through the motions and I can't see the reason why that might be."

Ianto was unable to look away from Jack's piercing eyes. "That isn't true."

"Even your interaction with the others has changed," Jack went on, ignoring his protest. "You say things that you would have said before, but you don't mean them now. It's as though your words are forced out when you would prefer to stay silent. You're more withdrawn, even though you make yourself talk and joke."

Shaking his head, Ianto struggled to find the words that would stop Jack's list of grievances. He began to tremble, panic rising as it became clear that his attempts to behave normally were not as successful as he'd thought. He had to stop this inquisition before it was too late.

With a sigh, he dropped his eyes and adopted the stance of one defeated. "It is still hard sometimes," he admitted and took solace in the honesty of his own words. It might be only a fraction of the tale he could tell, but it was the truth nonetheless and his conscience could work with that.

The young Welshman glanced up, sensing the questions gathering in the air around them before Jack had even opened his mouth. Another frisson of panic shot through his body and he licked his lips, lifting a hand and placing it against the immortal's chest. He held Jack's gaze intently. "I guess these things just take time," he suggested, mentally crossing his fingers that Jack would abandon this awkward conversation for something he knew – and did – far better.

For a moment it seemed that Jack would protest, but then he smiled wryly and drew Ianto forward until their foreheads touched briefly before pressing his mouth to the younger man's. The kiss was deep from the start, lips parting at first contact and tongues entwining without any of the playful graduation of more casual and lengthy encounters.

Ianto welcomed the solid presence of Jack's body as they came together, the warmth and strength reassuring and all thoughts of shame and deception fled his mind in favour of the far more pleasurable business of distracting the Captain.

Jack's fingers worked their way quickly past the buttons of Ianto's shirt and the younger man smiled against his lips. "Did you miss me?"

"You were only in there for a few hours," Jack replied, sliding his hands across Ianto's torso in a quick eager sweep before moving down to his belt.

"And yet you can't keep your hands off me."

Jack moved his lips to Ianto's neck. "I was worried," he admitted absently, in between kisses, and Ianto very nearly pulled away in surprise at the quiet words. Jack continued his ministrations, entirely ignorant to the response that his simple comment had evoked within the younger man.

Ianto forced his hands to move around onto the older man's back, guilt spearing him through the chest, but then Jack's fingers found their way into his underwear, wrapped themselves around his swiftly growing erection and Ianto's attention was directed swiftly and gladly downwards, away from the endless mystery of his labyrinth-like emotions.


	3. Chapter 3: Thursday

A/N: Wow, this might be the shortest interval between updates I've ever managed before! Enjoy!

* * *

Gwen sat propped up in bed, rubbing a palm over one of her bandaged forearms, and Jack grinned in amusement at her compromise to Owen's no-scratching rule.

"Don't you laugh at me, Jack Harkness," she growled, trying to give him an evil look through eyes too tired to pull it off. "You should be more sympathetic, knowing what I'm going through."

Jack shrugged and sat down on the edge of her mattress. "I'm thinking of making it mandatory every time we get a new member," he said casually.

Gwen pulled a face. "Like a vaccination? Measles, mumps and alien rashes?"

"I was thinking more hazing without the paddles." Jack considered his own words for a moment. "Or maybe with paddles too."

"I can't _believe_ you're all immune to this thing already," grumbled Gwen, ignoring him.

"Hey, we all suffered our own week of hell. At least you've got us to look after you now; back then we were all trapped in here under lockdown, scratching like mad. We weren't sure if we'd ever get better and, worst of all, we were forced to live off Suzie's stash of out of date vegetable cupasoups." Jack shuddered at the memory. "Not even the mutual creaming sessions could make up for _that_ horror."

Gwen looked at up him, apparently undecided whether to groan, laugh or hit him. In the end she rolled her eyes and slumped further into her pillows. "At least I'll be immune after this too, I suppose," she said, yawning deeply.

"Exactly," Jack agreed. He stood up again. "You should try and get some more sleep. You look like death warmed up."

"Always the charmer," Gwen murmured, her eyes sliding shut.

Jack leaned forward to press his lips to her hair and then retreated from the already slumbering woman.

* * *

"Ianto!"

Jack waved him over the moment the young man stepped through the cog door, only to immediately disappear into his office.

"What is it?" Ianto asked as he stopped behind Tosh's workstation, eyeing the details that filled her bank of monitors.

"Seems the Rift figured out we were down one and decided to start pissing around," Owen answered, folding his arms and scowling. "But then I guess we've been lucky not having any major disasters recently."

"Well, you've just gone and tempted fate, haven't you," Ianto said blithely, glancing up as Jack emerged from the office with his greatcoat on.

"We've got multiple events across the city," Tosh began to explain. "Nothing big-"

"-but I want them sorted ASAP," the Captain interrupted as he rejoined them.

There followed a flurry of activity as everyone set about preparing for an excursion and before long Jack, Ianto and Tosh were armed and in the SUV, heading through Cardiff at the usual breakneck speed. Ianto rolled around in the back seat, absently considering the irony of how grateful he felt that the Rift had started acting up.

If they'd had to leave two of their team behind at other time, he might have felt some concern about heading out to investigate an unknown disturbance, however in this instance he was glad for something to distract Jack for a while. The older man had been scrutinising Ianto very closely the past couple of days; his questioning from the evening before and the way his eyes followed Ianto wherever he went – and not in the usual way – was starting to make Ianto feel like he had a target painted between his shoulder blades.

The young Welshman hadn't believed he'd been acting any differently, but then it was always difficult to judge normality when trying so hard to _be_ normal. The thought of Jack finding out why he was still on edge three months after becoming an alien's puppet sent bolts of fear though Ianto's body. He was evidentially going to have to work much harder at keeping his lover firmly in the dark.

"Over there," Tosh announced, before much time had passed, and pointed through the windscreen at a shopping centre up ahead of them. Jack threw the vehicle into a screeching arc, just scraping through the car park entrance he'd almost overshot, and then followed Tosh's finger to a green verge off to the side of the complex. A small crowd of people were gathered there, but others were walking past without stopping, seemingly untroubled by whatever lay in the overgrown grass.

"Well, that's not the scene I was expecting," Jack admitted to his companions, bringing the SUV right up to the curb and climbing out. "Okay people, out the way, coming through!" he called, pushing between the onlookers to the middle of the circle. Once there he stopped, surprised, and turned back to face Tosh. "Am I missing something here?" he asked, waving a hand at what lay at his feet.

Tosh edged her way through the observers. "Oh," she declared weakly and Ianto, two steps behind, peered around her to see what had got everyone rather less excited than they should have been.

On the grass there appeared to be a slug; larger than usual, at perhaps a foot long and very fat, but slug-like in every other way.

"It looks..." Tosh was saying hesitantly, wary of the people around them, "...normal..."

"What is it?" someone asked, clearly accepting that Jack and the others were there to deal with the creature. "It can't be a slug, it's too big."

Jack lifted an eyebrow at the teenager. "It looks like a slug," he pointed out simply. "What else do you think it could be?"

"But it's....it's huge!" the youth said in disbelief and Jack grinned.

"You wouldn't believe how many times in a day I hear that," he said, winking at the woman beside the lad. He crouched down next to Tosh and they both watched her modified PDA as she scanned the creature. Jack snorted at the distinctly unimpressive results and looked up at Ianto. "Get the gear from the car."

Ianto turned away to comply whilst Jack stood and faced the onlookers still gathered nearby. "Really?" he asked them. "You're wasting your afternoon staring at a giant slug?" They gaped at him, shifting uncomfortably at his reproachful tone. "Go," he urged, waving his hands in a shooing motion. "Go buy frivolous things, eat junk food, enjoy your lives!"

The crowd dispersed quickly, chastened by his words and perhaps realising that they really could find something better to do.

"Is it okay to let them go?" Tosh asked, moving aside as Ianto placed a small containment unit down beside the creature.

"It's a freakishly large slug," Jack told her, shrugging. "Hardly front-page material. Besides, do you really want to try and Retcon all these people?"

"You mean do _I_ want to try and Retcon all these people," Ianto corrected, handing a pair of heavy-duty gloves to the Captain. "Now, if you'd be so kind..." He motioned towards the clear box he'd set next to the slug.

Jack looked from the box to the Welshman to the slimy creature on the ground. "But you're in charge of clean-up," he pointed out and tried to give the gloves back.

"And you're in charge of alien capture." Ianto smirked in faint satisfaction and kept his hands behind his back. "This is more alien than clean-up, so you get the honour, Sir."

Jack narrowed his eyes. "Fine," he said before a grin broke across his face. "But when we get back to the Hub I'm spilling coffee all over my paperwork and you'll have to clean it up."

"Oh?" Ianto raised an eyebrow. "You'd waste _my_ coffee like that?"

Tosh hid a giggle behind her hand as Jack tugged on the gloves with a pout and petulantly got to work.

* * *

The alien proved no trouble at all to secure; apart from almost slipping out of Jack's hands due to the copious amount of slime that covered it. It had remained motionless pretty much since they'd arrived, only squirming a little at Jack's touch and showing hardly any reaction at all to being on another world, which, whilst encouraging, was certainly curious as well.

They moved on to investigate the other instances of Rift activity, only to find more slugs at each new location, much to Jack's dismay. He'd tried convincing Tosh to take over handling the wet, squishy creatures but she'd only laughed at his plea. Ianto had simply glared him down before he'd even opened his mouth to ask.

By the end of the afternoon his skin felt sticky inside the sodden and apparently porous gloves and he'd vocally blamed Ianto for that fact at least a half-dozen times already, especially as the slime had proven resistant to wet-wipes and thus he'd been unable to drive the SUV for the rest of the day.

"Don't move," Ianto commanded the moment they were back in the Hub, and Jack found himself standing just inside the large cog-wheel door, hands held away from him as though they might move of their own volition and spread the stickiness over the rest of his body without his prior approval.

Tosh skirted around the Captain, giving him a wide berth and an amused smile, and Jack growled back at her playfully.

Ianto reappeared before him with a thick plastic bag and a bowl filled with various bottles in his hands. "Right," he said in his no-nonsense voice, "gloves in here." He held out the bag as Jack peeled off the rancid material, glad to be rid not only of the clinging items but also the smell of the vile slime. Ianto sealed the bag and set it aside, hopefully in order to destroy the gloves later on, rather than attempt to clean and reuse them.

"Come on," Ianto continued, dragging Jack's glare away from the offensive apparel. The young man turned, leading his Captain across the Hub and down a level to the large communal wetroom. Ianto set his bowl down beside one of the deep sinks and began running the taps to fill the porcelain. Jack stood in the middle of the room, hands still uselessly aloft, and watched Ianto as he poured various liquids into the water.

The young man glanced back over his shoulder and raised an eyebrow at Jack. "You enjoy it that much?" he asked.

"Enjoy what?" Jack replied, eyes fixed to Ianto's backside as he leaned over the sink.

"Having that stuff all over your hands."

Jack forced his attention upwards and wiggled his fingers. "It does have a certain _tactile _appeal," he said, lunging forward with his hands outstretched threateningly. Ianto simply shook his head and stepped aside, grasping one of Jack's arms as he passed and plunging his hand into the frothy water.

Chuckling to himself, Jack set about washing himself, occasionally flicking droplets of water at the other man and then finally sighing in relief when he pulled back from the sink, skin clean at last.

Ianto held out a towel but Jack countered by holding out his hands expectantly. The older man bit back another laugh as Ianto rolled his eyes and obediently patted them dry before producing a bottle of lotion and starting to smooth it over Jack's reddened skin.

Jack watched him, smiling affectionately at the absolute focus the young Welshman gave to his task. He was reminded of his recent concerns about Ianto's reversion to an almost entirely detached and professional demeanour. He wanted to believe his lover's assurance that it was simply a lingering ghost of being used, but something still didn't sit quite right about that.

"Ianto." The moment he spoke, the other man tensed. Jack marvelled briefly at the skill Ianto possessed in reading his thoughts and intentions, but then he frowned at the sudden atmosphere that had gathered around them. "I was thinking maybe we could go out later." The Captain tilted his head, trying to catch Ianto's eye. "Grab some dinner or something. It's been a while, y'know."

The corner of Ianto's mouth curved up into a smile. "It has," he agreed. His body relaxed again and Jack nodded slightly to himself, glad that he had changed his tactic at the last minute, but fully intending to take advantage of the more casual setting that a meal out would provide.

"Jack?" Owen's voice suddenly crackled in his ear. He pulled one hand free of Ianto's slick grasp and activated the comm.

"Owen," he replied, realising for the first time that they hadn't seen the doctor upon their return to the Hub. "What's up?"

"Tosh said you got covered in some kind of alien secretion?"

"Oh yeah, just a little slug juice." Jack held his hand back out to Ianto, even though there was no cream left to rub in. "Shame you weren't with us, you would've loved playing with the slippery little buggers."

Owen made a doubtful noise. "Yeah, well, just make sure you've got none of it on your skin or your clothes if you come in to see Gwen. I don't want to risk bringing anything toxic into the room right now."

Something in the doctor's tone alerted Jack's instinct for danger. The movement of Ianto's fingers also ceased and they shared a look. "Something wrong, Owen?" Jack asked carefully.

"You could say that," came the prickly response. "Gwen's skin has started to blister."

* * *

Jack and Ianto hurried to rid themselves of any trace of the alien slime before dashing back through the Hub to Gwen's room. Tosh was already there, hovering on one side of the bed whilst Owen stood on the other, injecting something through an IV line attached to the back of Gwen's hand.

The change from the last time Ianto had seen her was drastic. Earlier that day she'd been tired and itchy but in good spirits, yet in the interim her complexion had become sallow, the circles beneath her eyes were darker than ever, and her gaze slid lazily around the room, completely unfocused.

The two men eased their way in past Tosh, eyes fixed on Gwen's forearms. Owen had unwound the bandages and they could see that the rash had become a violent cherry-red and small lesions now covered her skin.

"What happened?" Ianto asked. "We didn't get anything like this before."

"Yeah, well, it's obviously a different strain, isn't it," Owen growled unhappily. "Whatever we were exposed to before must've been a weaker version, one that didn't develop past the initial stage of the rash."

"But it was enough to give us immunity to this one?" Ianto repressed a shudder, imagining what might have happened if the entire team had been struck down by this form of the virus. There was no doubt about the fact that Gwen couldn't care for herself, so if everyone had fallen ill with it at the same time...

"Lucky, eh?" Owen said into Ianto's grim visions. He scowled at the machines he had set up to monitor Gwen's new condition, as though he could find a solution within their displays. "The rash has got worse as well," he told them as he worked. "It's like this all over her body now." He waved a hand at the bright red limbs, his jaw clenching with anger and concern.

"And the blisters?" Ianto asked, feeling a little queasy.

"Only on her arms."

_So far,_ Ianto added silently to himself. He glanced to his side, where Jack stood, eyes fixed on Gwen's pallid face.

"Can you treat this?" the Captain asked in a monotone.

Owen pursed his lips. "I don't know yet. I could only ease the discomfort of the original rash, so I'm not sure if I can do any better with this." He busied himself with the collection of bottles and instruments he'd gathered there over the past few days, studiously avoiding looking at the others.

Ianto could read the tension in the young doctor's shoulders, but he was more concerned with the blank look creeping across Jack's face.

Over the years Ianto had become very adept at reading the immortal's expressions and so he knew without a doubt that there was fear gathering in his lover's heart. This new development, so unexpected and vicious, had Jack worried, and that was not an easy thing to do at all.

Ianto swallowed, his own anxiety growing at the dulling of Jack's eyes. Whatever the other man had planned for that evening would clearly have to wait; Jack wouldn't leave the Hub after this news and Ianto...well Ianto wanted to be somewhere else right then.

* * *

With a gasp, the young man dropped to his knees, legs unable to hold his own weight and he paused a moment, gathering himself. His chest heaved, skin damp with sweat, and his back stung deliciously.

"Does it ever stop?" he asked abruptly, surprising himself with the question. Now was not the time for speaking; now was the time for collecting his possessions and leaving in silence so he didn't have to analyse what had just happened.

"Does what ever stop?" came the response, the speaker's voice rich and strong and endlessly reassuring.

"Needing this." Ianto tilted his head, as though to look up, but couldn't lift his eyes from the floor. "Will I ever get enough and just stop?"

There came a sigh from above and then legs appeared beside him. "I couldn't say for sure." The other man crouched down and still Ianto refused to meet his eyes. "People change, needs change. Sometimes once is enough to get it out of their system. Sometimes they come here regular as clockwork but then something changes in their everyday life and they stop." A hand drifted over Ianto's shoulder, not quite touching but letting him know the offer was there. "It's all relative, depending on the individual."

"Do _you_ ever want to stop, Alex?"

A quiet laugh. "Occasionally. When clients come here for certain other reasons and have no concept or appreciation of what I truly offer."

"But you don't turn them away," Ianto guessed.

"No, I correct them," replied Alex. "My own needs still stand."

Ianto said nothing, simply nodded. He stared at the padded cuffs around his wrists, fascinated by the intricate detail that had gone into them. They must have been made by a specialist, he decided, someone who cared about their creations, but how many people who wore them ever noticed the artistry within the fine metal and leather?

The notion disturbed him and he felt a sudden need to be free of their confines. Who could think the cuffs beautiful when they knew what they were used for? He scrabbled at them, nails sliding over the catches in his haste to be rid of the heavy shackles, and only when the other man caught his hands did he realise what he was doing.

"Let me," Alex said quietly, and he quickly removed them, setting them aside out of sight.

Ianto deflated in on himself, momentarily as still as a statue whilst he began to prepare himself for standing and leaving the room. It didn't take much; he'd been entrenched in lies one way or another for most of his life and so pulling on his impassive mask was like second nature to him. No, it didn't take much, and yet it was still getting progressively harder every time he left one of these sessions.

"Would you like to shower before you go?" Alex asked, returning to the ritual they had established for this part of the encounter. The same question, posed at the end of each scenario, and their time together was officially over. Their temporary roles dissipated into the heavy air and the truth of their identities began to seep back in.

But then he touched Ianto, actually _touched_ him whilst the young man was still collecting the shattered pieces of his façade from the hardwood floor. Ianto looked at the hand upon his forearm, stared at it as though it were completely alien, and found himself more disturbed by the contact than if the hand _had_ belonged to an alien.

"No," he said, because he always said no; the journey home, sticky with sweat and exertion, was another part of his return to the normal world and the shower in his home was always the final resting place of the demons he'd expunged during the session. "Thank you," he added, because he was always polite.

"Okay," Alex said. He leaned forward and pressed his lips to Ianto's forehead. "I'll let you get dressed." And then he was gone, leaving Ianto alone and staring blindly at the door through which the other man had left. First the touch and then a kiss? His mind reeled, unable to cope with the unexpected when he was not yet back within himself; when he was not quite Ianto Jones again, but still the half-empty shell that resembled everything that was wrong with him.

The chaste kiss upon his brow left behind it a searing heat, almost strong enough to counter the fresh stripes of fire that ran across his back, and Ianto found himself floundering, unsure which he should focus upon, which would bring the least pain to his heart.

It proved to be no easy decision and so he instead chose the third option; the easy way out. He chose to ignore it.

Standing, Ianto reached for his clothes, where he'd placed them, neatly folded, an hour or so earlier, numbly re-donning the costume that would get him safely back to his flat, where he could then fix the persona fully into place and no longer need the suit to hide within.

His movements caused his back to twist, reminding him of the reason for his presence there, for the truth of his arrangement with Alex, even if the other man was forgetting himself, and he clung to that thought as he finished dressing.

He then took the coward's way out again, emerging from the 'playroom' into the empty living room beyond and standing there for a moment without calling out. Alex was nowhere in sight, and when he didn't appear at the sound of Ianto moving about, the young man gladly grasped the opportunity to sneak from the apartment and back out into the safe darkness of the night.


	4. Chapter 4: Friday

Jack tapped his pen against the desk, the beat a rhythmic counter to his disjointed thoughts. It was a sign of his concern, a tell he really should have been able to suppress, but he was worried, more worried than he'd been in quite a while.

Owen had spent most of the night locked away in the lab, testing and re-testing samples he had taken from everyone, looking for something that made Gwen's virus different from the previous strain. Tosh had helped him for a while, before returning to the alien pod to look for any clue about the disease it had carried, but at one in the morning Jack had seen the fatigue drawing on her and he'd told Ianto to take her home and then get some rest himself.

The Welshman had indeed driven Tosh back to her apartment, but he'd returned a few hours later, impossibly refreshed and determined to help wherever he could. He'd ignored Jack's glares and commands to go home and spent the hours before dawn making sure that Owen had everything he needed and Gwen had someone with her every time she woke up, despite the fact that she drifted in and out of coherence without warning.

That fact in itself was alarming, but when her breathing had begun to labour, the atmosphere had grown even tenser than before. Now there was an oxygen mask clamped over her face, Owen sported a permanent scowl and Jack's mind was skirting around a fearful possibility he did not want to consider.

A shadow passed across the open doorway and Jack threw down the pen as he leapt to his feet. "Ianto!" he shouted, rounding his desk and crossing the room in two steps. "Get Martha on the phone right now!"

Out in the open area, Ianto had apparently just emerged from the autopsy bay, his arms filled with a variety of medical equipment. "Will do," he replied, his tone calm where Jack's was agitated.

The Captain took a moment to sweep his gaze over the other man, checking for signs of fatigue or illness or anything else that would add to the knot growing in Jack's chest. Fortunately there was no hint of any adverse effects of Ianto's prolonged contact with Gwen, just the usual impeccable bearing and a neutral expression.

"How is she?" Jack asked quietly.

Ianto shrugged eloquently within his neatly pressed suit. "Her breathing's still thready and Owen's been giving her more morphine than he'd like, but the lesions have only spread a little further up her arms and..." he paused and studied Jack. "You could come see for yourself," he suggested casually, though the underlying accusation was anything but light.

Jack clenched his jaw. He hadn't been back in Gwen's room since returning to the Hub the day before and he really shouldn't have been surprised that Ianto had noticed.

"Owen doesn't need me getting under his feet," he said defensively and the words sounded weak even to his own ears. He scowled, unhappy not only with the chain continually tightening around his heart, but also his inability to cope with a sensation that he'd thought himself accustomed to.

He'd encountered a lot of illness in his time, seen too many loved ones struggle for their lives, but this...it troubled him all the more because it was _Gwen_. Even beyond the fact that he couldn't do anything to aid Owen in his search for a treatment, he couldn't do anything _at all_, and it was rare for him to feel so helpless.

Ianto was still watching him knowingly. Jack had no doubt at all that the other man knew the root of his anxiety and he didn't know how he felt about someone being able to grasp his thoughts so easily. Unable to deal with that on top of everything else right then, Jack shook his head and stepped back into his office, away from the blue gaze which could see right through him.

* * *

Toshiko returned to work late the next morning, feeling more alert and upbeat than she had expected. She'd had to get a taxi in because her car was still at the Hub, and she hated making small talk with taxi drivers, but she was grateful that Jack had insisted she spend the night in her own bed.

She had, of course, argued at the time, but he and Ianto had skilfully manoeuvred her out the door and into Ianto's car without paying her protests the slightest bit of notice. When they'd reached her flat and Ianto had walked her to her door, he'd tried to pacify her by pointing out the fact that he was going home for a rest as well, but she doubted he had stayed away for the whole night.

Still, she couldn't deny that the sleep had done her the world of good and she was now brimming with ideas for her ongoing tests on the pod. Whether any of them would provide results Owen could use in helping Gwen was another matter, but unravelling the mystery of the alien object was the only real contribution Tosh could make towards the search for a cure.

After being updated on Gwen's condition by Jack and Ianto – the latter of which deftly avoided the subject of what time he'd returned to the Hub – she headed to Gwen's room and let herself in as quietly as possible. Owen was already inside, as she'd expected, fussing over the machines monitoring the other woman's progress.

"No change?" Tosh asked, setting down her laptop on one of the tables that had been moved into the room.

"Not really, but at the moment I'd have to say that's a good thing. Neither the sores or her breathing have got any worse in the past–" he glanced at his watch, "-two hours. If they remain stable, there's a chance she'll start to improve soon." He turned to see Tosh setting up her computer. "What's going on?"

"I thought I'd sit with her for a while," Tosh said. "Give you a chance to take a break, get some...well, not sleep, but rest, I suppose."

Owen shook his head. "No need, I'm fine."

"You're not fine, Owen, you've been working non-stop all night and before that you were in here every available moment seeing to her rash. Even if your body doesn't need to relax, your mind does." Tosh paused, a little surprised by her own outburst. "You need to take some time away from trying to figure this out," she went on, softer than before. "Maybe you'll have some blinding flash of insight and realise how to fix it."

On the bed Gwen stirred from her doze at Toshiko's raised voice. She opened her eyes a fraction and peered up at the new arrival. "Kick 'im out," she croaked through her oxygen mask.

Tosh smiled, partly for the sentiment but mostly for the fact that Gwen was awake and lucid, which was an improvement on when Tosh had last seen her the day before. Her arms were still wrapped in thick bandages, beneath which her skin was apparently in a bad state, but at least her eyes were no longer completely vacant.

She glanced across at Owen. "Two against one," she said innocently and the doctor scowled at her.

"Fine, I can tell when I'm not wanted," he announced, his lips tightening into a thin line and his eyes flashing with frustration. He tugged off his medical gloves as he made for the door, tripping slightly over his own feet as he strode out. Tosh could hear him cursing in the hallway and couldn't hold back the affectionate chuckle that slipped out.

Gwen briefly laughed as well, until she fell silent with a wince.

"Are you okay?" Tosh asked, immediately hurrying to her side and helping her pull aside the mask.

"Yeah," she said hoarsely. "Just hurts."

Tosh struggled to keep hold of her smile. "Is the morphine not helping? I can get Owen back in here if-"

"No," Gwen interrupted. "Got this." She lifted a hand and showed Tosh the button she was holding. She pressed it and sighed a moment later as another dose of morphine made its way through her IV. "Instant high," she explained dreamily.

Tosh took a moment to study her colleague, her eyes lingering on the thick white salve spread over the visible skin of her red upper arms. She supposed Owen was hoping to keep the blisters from spreading with the rash, but if he couldn't treat them already, she wasn't too sure if he could prevent them either.

Apparently the additional drugs in her system hadn't managed to completely distract Gwen, for she noticed the look upon Tosh's face and waved a limp hand to get her attention. "Hey," she said, making Tosh jump with guilt. "Don't."

Tosh grimaced. "Sorry."

"Not your fault."

"But if I hadn't opened the pod..."

"If, if, if," Gwen chanted, grinning blearily through the morphine. "Don't be silly. Always risk an' danger. Don't blame you."

Tosh smiled but it was forced. It didn't help ease her feeling of culpability, but protesting wouldn't do any good and she knew it. "Rhys sends his love," she said, hoping to change the subject.

"Aw, bless 'im," Gwen slurred. "He's coming in?"

"Oh, um, I'm not sure..."

"Really wanna see him."

"Oh, of course you do. I'll find out. Do you want me to find out?" Tosh asked, feeling suddenly very uncomfortable. She had a feeling Jack wouldn't allow Rhys into the base, but she couldn't very well tell Gwen that.

When Gwen didn't respond, however, Tosh leaned forward, noticing that her eyes had closed and her breathing had evened out. Deflating with relief, Tosh replaced the oxygen mask before moving back to the table and slumping into the plastic seat beside it.

* * *

Ianto wheeled a chair over to Tosh's desk and sat down beside her, nudging her shoulder with his own in quiet reassurance. Tosh was the only person Ianto could touch so freely – apart from Jack of course – and not feel awkward doing it, although it still happened rather infrequently.

"You okay?" he asked, noticing her gaze was fixed on her keyboard even though she wasn't typing.

Tosh sighed softly. "Gwen's been asking for Rhys."

"Ah."

"I mentioned it to Jack but he didn't seem too thrilled by the idea."

Ianto nodded and smiled faintly. "Yeah, that wouldn't surprise me."

"I think she thinks she's going to die," Tosh went on, looking up at Ianto at last. Her eyes weren't red, but Ianto could see she was struggling to hold back her fear and worry. He knew it wouldn't take much to draw tears from that dark gaze.

Ianto placed a hand on her arm, then changed his mind and slipped it across her shoulders instead. "She won't. Jack won't allow it."

"What can he do to stop it?" Tosh asked, voice dropping into a whisper and eyes darting towards the door to Jack's office. "And if she dies he can't even bring her back like Owen now that both gauntlets are gone." She winced. "Not that I'd wish that upon her."

Ianto didn't know what to say to reassure her, so he held his tongue and rubbed her arm gently.

"It's all starting to fall apart, isn't it?" Tosh went on quietly after a moment. "Gwen's on her deathbed, Owen's body would shatter if he tripped down the stairs and Jack..." She guiltily dropped her eyes away from Ianto's. "Jack already disappeared once..."

_And he might disappear again at any moment,_ Ianto finished silently for her. He didn't rush to defend the Captain, finding himself unable to lie on his lover's behalf, especially as he'd experienced those same concerns ever since Jack had returned from the little trip that he still refused to talk about.

"It won't fall apart," he eventually said, feeling the slight tremors in Tosh's shoulders. "We'll get through this, just like always."

"It can't last," she replied, either not hearing or simply ignoring his words. "The things we do...it's all going to come crashing down around us sooner or later." She shook her head. "Sooner, most likely."

Ianto frowned, troubled by this fearful side of his friend that had suddenly emerged. Tosh didn't just give up like this, she kept pushing and pushing until something clicked into place and opened up a new path that in turn led to a solution; they all did that, in fact, which was probably why they had been, why they _were,_ such a capable team.

But maybe Tosh had a point. The turnover for Torchwood employees was far higher than any other organisation in the country, possibly in the world, so perhaps she really wasn't being too fatalistic to worry that the end was nearing for their little family.

It was still unlike her, however, to be cowed in such a way, and in a sudden flash of insight, Ianto realised the truth of the matter. This was her grief for Owen; the grief she'd refused to face when he had been shot was finally breaking through thanks to the emotional upheaval surrounding Gwen's illness. It was perfectly understandable and Ianto _had_ been expecting her grief to emerge at some point; despite holding back her mourning as Owen wasn't actually gone from their lives, Tosh still needed to grieve for what had happened to him.

Ianto laid his free hand over hers, where they lay folded together in her lap. "We'll get through this," he said again, hoping for her sake that he wouldn't be proven wrong.

* * *

Alex opened the door, a smile already on his lips. He stepped back and waved Ianto inside. "Three times in four days," he said cheerfully. "I could get used to this."

Ianto scowled at him. "Please don't sound so happy about it."

Chastened, the smile faded from Alex's face. "Sorry. That was insensitive of me."

"It was," Ianto agreed, the tension thrumming in his body stretching his politeness to the limit.

There was a moment's hesitation as Alex studied him carefully. "If you wanted," he began, "you could try talking about it." Ianto's lips pressed together unhappily and the other man shrugged. "I'm serious. To go from once a week to this...has something happened?"

"It's not been a good week." Ianto looked away and sighed. "I don't come here to talk, Alex. That isn't part of the deal."

"No, it isn't. But I'm still offering it."

Ianto said nothing for a long minute and then shook his head. "I can't," he said, his chest beginning to feel constricted; the emotions roiling deep within him conflicting with his instinct to suppress them. "I'm not much of a talker." He grimaced around the words, pained by the effort of admitting his weakness.

"It's okay, I understand," Alex said soothingly. "But maybe it's time we consider changing your scenario. It isn't enough for you anymore, is it?"

"It works."

"It could be better," the older man told him. "If you'd just let me show you."

Ianto looked away and shrugged helplessly. "I don't want to try anything new right now."

Alex sighed quietly. "You're the boss." He took a step away and motioned towards the door behind which the young man could face his secret needs in safety.


	5. Chapter 5: Sunday

A/N: Crash_n_Burn - Thanks so much for your encouragement and for taking the time to comment on each chapter! Of course I'm grateful to *everyone* who's reviewed, but you all get direct responses, so I'm not going to name you all here as well!

A/N 2: No, I haven't missed a day :P

* * *

Ianto set the mug beside Jack's motionless hand and took a step back, waiting for a reaction.

It was Sunday evening and coffee was the most Ianto could hope to get Jack to consume. The day before he'd only managed to coax some buttery toast down the immortal's throat and he suspected that was purely because Jack had been so distracted at the time.

Since Friday Ianto had barely seen his lover. Jack had seemed to be avoiding everyone that morning, hiding in his office before suddenly disappearing from the Hub without a word. He'd been out of contact for the rest of the day, right up to when Ianto had felt compelled to see Alex yet again; the stress of Gwen's condition, Tosh's fear and Jack's despair pushing his own anxiety to new heights.

He hadn't wanted to go, partly because he would be imitating Jack in abandoning the Hub, and partly because he would be admitting that he had grown so weak recently. Unfortunately, it seemed he was now on a slippery slope without any control over his descent and thus he had given into the urge to escape. Afterwards, Ianto had hurried home, showered, changed and returned to the Hub only to find that Jack still hadn't reappeared. At that point, however, Ianto had felt so calm and in control that he'd been more than capable to handle a Weevil sighting at the Docks on his own, though he had been a little surprised that a quiet Jack had only turned up to help _after_ Ianto had secured the pair of aliens roaming about aboveground.

On Saturday, after catching a few hours of sleep in Jack's bed – alone – Ianto had woken to discover that the Captain had gone off again. When she'd told him, Tosh's eyes had flashed with distress and Ianto had been reminded of her concerns that Jack would leave them at a time when they needed him most. Owen, in turn, had grumbled about 'selfish pricks' whilst earnestly reading the latest e-mail he'd received from Martha.

They'd had real trouble getting a hold of Doctor Jones; none of her contact numbers had been answered and direct calls to UNIT had proven fruitless. News of their efforts, however, had evidently reached her, for late on Friday night she'd called to explain that she was out of the country, seeing to a project she couldn't talk about. Even though she couldn't be there to help in person, however, Martha had insisted that Owen send her all his notes on the virus and they'd been throwing theories back and forth via phone and e-mail ever since.

The rest of Saturday had passed in a fairly sedate manner: Owen was busy with Martha and her ideas, Tosh had finally been convinced to take a break from the pod and put some time into her other projects, and Ianto had tried to mop up everything else that had been put aside for the past few days, throwing himself into his work in order to ignore the puzzle of what Jack might be doing. He'd called in a couple of times for updates, but didn't reappear again until later that night, when he'd shown up at Ianto's apartment looking tired and dejected.

After being refused an explanation, Ianto had set out tea and toast on the small dining table and sat across from the older man, watching as he silently ate without paying any attention to the food at all.

Owen and Tosh had surmised that Jack had been roaming the city the past two days, pressing his various contacts for help, or perhaps merely hoping to trip over an answer in the street, but Ianto knew it went deeper than that.

There was no doubt in his mind that, above all, Jack was trying to avoid the reality of the situation. By escaping the Hub, he was escaping the undeniable fact that Gwen might die. That he could lose her from this disease. The pain which arose from that possibility was too much for Jack to handle and Ianto saw that it was driving him to keep from thinking about it as much as he could.

Even though he had purposefully held back from getting too close to Gwen in order not to get hurt, Jack was still suffering as her demise became more and more likely. He'd kept himself from loving her for nothing and now he was on the verge of forever losing both her and the dream of what they could have had together.

Ianto couldn't help but feel a surge of sympathy for the immortal man. He'd always been aware of Jack's tricks to keep from getting into situations that could hurt him; the humour, the bravado...they might have once been reflections of his personality, but now he carried them like a shield, distancing himself from other people as he prepared for an eternity of loss and loneliness.

Only the shield wasn't as strong as it seemed and the man behind it felt pain regardless. He tried to hide it, but Ianto wasn't fooled.

The only consolation Ianto could see was that Jack had only been gone for a few hours on Sunday morning, instead of the whole day. Even though he'd returned and confined himself to his office once again, he was at least no longer physically avoiding the Hub. Ianto hoped that meant he'd realised he couldn't truly run from what was happening to Gwen.

"Everything all right?" he finally asked, when the Captain made no sign of noticing the other man in the office.

Jack acknowledged him a brief flick of his eyes and nothing more.

"She'll be okay. Martha will contact your Doctor, he'll turn up and fix her, and then we can all vow never to open any more mysterious packages that fall through the Rift."

Jack managed a weak smile. "We'd never be able to resist the temptation."

Ianto moved around the desk and stood behind Jack's chair, resting his hands upon the older man's shoulders and rubbing them gently. "She'll be okay," he repeated confidently.

"How can you be so sure?" Jack asked, his voice entirely devoid of emotion. "How can you know that?"

"Because she can't die like this. I don't think someone like Gwen could ever be destined to just slip away quietly."

Jack tilted his head and looked up at the younger man. "Destined? You're going to try and preach the notion of destiny to me?"

"Why not? Don't you sometimes feel that things are meant to happen a certain way?"

"How can we know whether there's any meaning behind anything?" Jack retorted. "People spout claims like fate and destiny without considering the fact that things will always keep happening whether there's some great plan or not directing them."

Ianto sighed and removed his hands. He perched on the edge of Jack's desk and waited for the Captain to meet his gaze. When he did, Ianto could see the fear set deep into his blue eyes.

"I don't know how to fight this, Ianto," Jack admitted in a pained voice. "I can't kill it or outwit it. I can't even yell curses at it. I feel useless and I _hate_ feeling useless."

Ianto reached out to take his hand, entwining their fingers in a rare show of intimacy. "I know. We all feel the same, but – and not to sound defeatist here – but you can't fix everything, Jack, especially not an illness like this."

"No," Jack agreed dejectedly and then sighed. He stared at their joined hands for a long moment before speaking again. "Owen said that, with the damage spreading to her internal organs, tomorrow morning will be the latest we can safely put her through the cryo process."

"She said she didn't want that," Ianto quietly pointed out.

"She made that decision when she was healthy. Now she's facing death, she'll change her mind."

"I thought we were waiting for your Doctor-"

"You don't _know_ the Doctor," Jack interrupted tersely. "He doesn't work to our timeline. If we leave it to chance, he could turn up too late, so we have to freeze her as she is now."

Ianto grimaced, hating to quash Jack's hope but unable to deny reality. "She made it clear that when it was her time, when we'd exhausted all avenues, we were to let her go."

"That's only because of what happened to Owen," Jack argued with a frown. "She was talking about us trying to bring her back like we did with him."

"I don't think she was."

"Then you're wrong!" Jack barked, letting go of Ianto's hand and folding his arms across his chest.

"I recall the conversation quite clearly..."

Jack silenced him with a glare. "We'd only be putting her in there for a while; she won't even know what's going on until she wakes up, back to normal again."

Ianto's eyes slid over the determined expression upon the other man's face, slightly awed by the power Gwen had over Jack to cause such ferocity. He stood silently and walked over to one of the filing cabinets on the other side of the room, forcing himself to move, to ignore the pain that the depth of emotion in Jack's voice awoke in his chest.

"What are you doing?" Jack asked, as he pulled open one of the drawers.

"Getting a consent form." Ianto retrieved a sheet of paper and scanned it, making sure it was the most recent revision. "She'll have to sign to say her wishes have changed." The fact that Gwen probably wouldn't be able to even hold a pen, let alone sign her name, didn't escape Ianto, but he'd needed an excuse to move away from the other man.

"Put that back," the Captain commanded. "She's not signing anything, this is my decision."

Ianto stared at him incredulously. "No, it's hers."

"I'm in charge here, Ianto. I give the orders. _You_ obey them, remember?" Jack had risen to his feet, anger making his presence dark and foreboding. "If I say she gets frozen, she gets frozen."

"Jack, you can't ignore her wishes like that."

"Fuck her wishes," Jack growled, slicing the air with a decisive hand.

Ianto gaped, astounded by the other man's words, but as he searched for a response, Jack's shoulders suddenly slumped and his chin dropped to his chest, as though his head was too heavy to hold up any longer. "Ianto..." he whispered, "...it's _Gwen_."

And that summed it up entirely, Ianto realised. He wouldn't be able to make Jack see reason and he couldn't do anything to stop him either. He placed the paper back into the drawer and took a few steps closer to the Captain, a small resigned smile on his face.

Jack sighed in relief and collapsed back down into his chair. "You'd think I'd be used to this by now," he said after a moment, rubbing at his temples.

"I hope you never get used it," Ianto murmured, instantly picking up on the direction of his thoughts. "Death isn't something you should become accustomed to."

"Other than my own, you mean."

"Yes, our own deaths are a different matter. We're allowed to feel however we want about those."

Jack looked up at him, studying his features intently, trying to see the thoughts that filled Ianto's mind. "How would you feel about yours?" he asked.

Ianto shook his head. "I'm not answering that question, Jack, not today. But I will tell you this: if it were me lying in that room unable to breathe by myself, I'd hope you'd come and see me." Jack's brow creased but before he could protest, Ianto continued. "I know you've been avoiding going in there. You shouldn't. You _have_ to spend time with her."

"Because she needs me to lie and tell her I'll make everything better?" Jack asked coldly.

"Because you'd hate yourself for a long time if something happened to her, whether she die or be put into cryo, and you hadn't sat by her side for at least a few hours, whilst you still can."

Jack nodded reluctantly, giving into Ianto's logic. He pushed himself back up from the desk, body heavy with troublesome emotions that he could no longer deny. Ianto grasped his arm before he could move away and forced him to meet his gaze.

"Tomorrow morning I'm going to bring Rhys in to see her," he told the Captain in a tone that would allow no argument. "He has to say his goodbyes as well." He lowered his voice slightly. "She's been asking for him again."

Jack stared at Ianto for a long silent moment and then nodded again. If they truly were going to freeze her then he couldn't continue to deny that request.

"Talk to her," Ianto said quietly, sliding his hand down Jack's arm to his fingers and squeezing them once before letting go and making his way out of the office.

* * *

The ringing droned in his ear and Ianto mentally willed it to stop, impatient and anxious all at the same time.

"Hello?" Alex finally answered.

"Hi. It's me," Ianto said into his mobile. "I need to see you."

"You don't call for days and now we're at the 'it's me' stage?"

Ianto rolled his eyes. How did he always end up associating with self-proclaimed comedians? "Are you free tonight?" he asked, ignoring the question.

"Well yeah, it is the day of rest and all that. You want to come over now?"

Ianto pressed a button on the wall beside him and heard the bell ring at the other end of the line. "I'm already here."

"God, Ianto, I didn't realise we were at the 'dropping by' stage either."

"Alex, please just let me in!" The urgency in his tone finally seemed to get through to the other man and a buzz filled the air, indicating that the building's door had been unlocked. "Thank you," he said as he let himself in and hurried over to the stairwell.

Ianto flipped his mobile shut without waiting for a response and took the stairs two at a time up to the third floor, where the other man was waiting in his open doorway. He looked rather unkempt, dirty blond hair ruffled and distinctly flat on one side, and he wore a loose purple robe that had definitely been chosen for comfort rather than style.

"Hi," Ianto said again, finding it hard not to push his way into the flat, eager to keep moving lest he stop to think about what had compelled him to come here.

"Oh, it's you," Alex dead-panned, taking a step back and letting him inside.

Once the door was shut and locked, Ianto felt a great sense of relief wash over him, as though simply being in this man's home could remove all of his tension for good. He knew that wasn't true, but it didn't stop him from dropping onto one of the two large sofas taking up most of the space in the living room.

He'd left the Hub immediately after ordering Jack to talk to Gwen, unable to stand the idea of trying to work whilst the Captain sat with her, pouring out his heart to the dying woman. He hadn't quite been able to admit to himself _why_ that notion bothered him so much, only that it had been enough to drive him out of the base when he should have been there, doing his job and waiting nearby in case he was needed.

"Okay," Alex said. "I just woke up from a nap and I'm not quite with it, so you'll have to help me out here...is this a social call?"

Ianto blinked up at him, confused, and then shot to his feet as though there was a fire beneath him. "Oh...I-I'm sorry...I didn't..."

Alex held up a hand to stop him. "It's all right, Ianto. You're free to sit if you want."

"I'm sorry," Ianto repeated, looking down at the sofa in bewilderment. The last time he'd sat there had been his first meeting with Alex, when the older man had explained what he offered and made Ianto aware of the rules he worked by. Since then, he'd only ever passed through the living room on his way from the front door to the playroom and back again. "I'm a bit..." he struggled for the rest of the sentence, "...out of sorts."

"So I see." Alex ran a hand through his hair. "Would you like a drink?"

Ianto shook his head. "No."

"Would you like to talk?"

A flash of discomfort passed across Ianto's face. Talking seemed such an innocent notion, but he knew it had devastating power. If he voiced any of what was crashing around in his head it would cause it all to become real; more real than Ianto could handle right then. If he said aloud the way sending Jack to Gwen had felt, it would mean that the jealousy truly existed, and he couldn't afford for it to exist.

He didn't want to experience that kind of pain again.

His eyes slid to the closed door on the opposite side of the room and he unconsciously licked his lips, the mere thought of what lay beyond causing his heart to race.

"Would you like me to help you?"

The question was asked quietly and Ianto glanced away from the door to find Alex standing closer than before. "Yes, please," he murmured submissively in response.

Alex leaned in and pressed his lips softly to Ianto's, pulling back almost immediately to gauge his reaction. "Do you trust me?"

Ianto frowned. Alex had never asked that before, nor ever started the session with a kiss. "Yes..." he replied carefully, not entirely sure why the other man was changing the script without permission.

"Good, because we're going to try something different today and you're going to need to remember that you trust me."

"Alex..."

"No, Ianto, the normal stuff isn't enough for you anymore. I can tell you want something more but you're afraid to ask me to help you find it." He smiled. "You don't know what you need, but I do, so you're going to trust me and I'm going to make you feel better than ever, okay?"

Ianto was lost for words for a moment, the commanding tone of the older Welshman tapping into his base instinct to defer to strength and authority. He licked his lips again, tempted.

He'd had a lot of trouble accepting his need for the bondage and flagellation sessions, but they'd certainly served their purpose and cleared the feelings of doubt and inadequacy from his mind. Now, however, if the past week or so was anything to go by, they weren't working nearly as well as they had been. Perhaps Alex was right, perhaps he did require more.

"Okay," he agreed. He hadn't known what to expect the first time he'd come here, so why act so cautious now that he knew what Alex could do for him?

"Come on." Alex turned on his heel and led the way across the room without looking back.

Ianto followed, but once he realised that they weren't heading for the playroom, he faltered in confusion. "Where are we going?"

Alex didn't reply, simply opened another door and stepped inside. Ianto stopped in the doorway when he saw that they were in a bedroom. "Alex?"

"Sit down."

The room was as neat and airy as the rest of the apartment, other than the rumpled state of the recently used bed covers, but Ianto barely took any notice of the décor, focusing instead on the fact that the only place to actually sit down was on the bed. "Where?"

A short laugh drifted out from the en suite. "On your arse. Don't question, just sit down."

Ianto took a step forward. Maybe Alex needed to fetch something before they went into the other room.

The older man emerged almost immediately from the bathroom, having rid himself of his robe, and Ianto couldn't help giving his body a once-over...he _was_ wearing nothing but loose jogging bottoms after all. He'd grown accustomed to being half-naked in Alex's presence, their previous activities requiring it, but Alex had always remained aloof of the proceedings; his existence as a large, intimidating man made bland and innocuous by a uniform of muted colours and not a spread of bare muscular flesh.

"Did you not hear me?"

Ianto glanced up, flushing to realise he'd been staring. "Sorry?"

"Sit."

Ianto straightened automatically at the firmness of the other man's tone, recognising it as the one he used in the playroom. It was also similar to the one Jack used when he assumed full Captain-mode, but Ianto never liked to linger very long on that comparison.

Without closely considering what he was doing, Ianto crossed to the bed and sat on the edge of the mattress.

"Good," Alex said with a nod of his head. He walked to the door and shut it, dispersing Ianto's theory that they would be leaving there soon. When he opened his mouth to question that fact, the look Alex gave him stopped the words in his throat. "Now strip," the older man went on.

Ianto blinked up at him. Okay, so he'd only just thought about being mostly naked around the other man, but a stern order to strip wasn't part of the normal script either. The corner of his mouth twitched up briefly into an anxious smile. "Perhaps you should explain-"

His words were cut off by a heavy slap that sent him tumbling to the floor.


	6. Chapter 6

Jack swept both hands over his face, trying to wipe away the uncommon fatigue that had settled so heavily upon him. In the bed beside which he sat, Gwen slept on, though during Owen's last check-up he'd assured the Captain that the most recent dose of sedatives would wear off soon and she would wake within the hour.

Smiling grimly to himself, Jack shifted in the plastic chair, attempting to get more comfortable as he settled in to wait. He was determined that Gwen would know he'd been there for her, even if it had taken him far too long to realise that necessity for himself.

Ianto had been right to accuse him of avoiding spending time alone with her. He'd actually managed to surprise himself with his behaviour; he had truly thought he'd become accustomed to seeing the people he cared for die, hence his insistence on seizing the day and making the most of every moment he might have with them.

Of course with Gwen, it seemed, that practise had been shot to hell.

Jack studied her sleeping face, wondering at which precise moment she'd gotten under his skin. He knew he had admired her impetuous and determined personality from their very first encounter, and of course she was more than just a little attractive, but somewhere along the line he'd realised that there was something else that set her apart from most of the people Jack had met in his lifetime.

And those she was similar to were ones with which he'd ended up in serious relationships.

Jack lifted a hand and tidied Gwen's hair, straightening her fringe and moving a stray dark strand from across her face. He could easily fall in love with her, already did love her to a certain extent, but he'd held back from allowing anything to happen between them and, even more importantly, from allowing himself to give her his heart.

At the start he'd restrained himself to better enjoy the game. It was clear she wouldn't have resisted for long if Jack had really turned on the charm, but that was far too easy and so he'd refused to act until he'd had a bit of fun watching her squirm.

As he'd come to know her, however, and recognised what they could have together, he'd hesitated again, his mind ensnared by the holes his previous loves had left in his heart. And when Gwen had agreed to marry Rhys, he'd realised that he couldn't deny her the chance of a normal love, even if Torchwood meant there would be nothing normal about the rest of her life.

Of course those decisions, which Jack knew to be for the best, did not stop him from questioning that choice now that she was so close to death.

"I do regret it," he said quietly, resting a hand on Gwen's bandaged arm. "But it was the right thing to do. If I'd given it a chance, one of us would have had to change, and I'm not sure that would have been good for anyone."

* * *

Alex smiled down at the man on the floor. "Strip," he repeated warmly. "You don't want to get your nice suit creased, do you?"

Caught off guard by the suddenly pleasant tone, Ianto shook his head. When Alex turned away, he pulled himself to his feet, torn between demanding to know precisely what was going on and simply giving into the order. He eyed the door but didn't make a move towards it, held in place by the need that had brought him here. He wanted to be rid of the tumultuous emotions that were troubling him and only Alex was capable of doing that.

Even if he was insisting on a different tone and location for it.

Ianto toed off his shoes then bent down to pull at his socks, trusting the other man to know what he was doing. He was a professional after all, a highly recommended one at that, and Ianto had been happy with everything else he'd provided in the previous few months.

"Sit," Alex said from across the room, his back to Ianto.

Rolling his eyes, Ianto sat and continued to undress. Perhaps when Alex had said he wanted to do something different he'd meant treating Ianto like a dog. What would be next? 'Fetch'? 'Roll over'? The young man bit back a chuckle at the idea and hoped that wasn't the case.

Some people might dream of wearing collars, but not Ianto. Unless it was a tie, Ianto didn't like things around his neck; he had an inexplicable, albeit entirely normal, fear of strangulation. He had, in fact, informed Alex of that whilst they were setting the ground rules, so he was fairly sure dog collars and leashes were off the menu. Thankfully.

Alex turned around once Ianto was down to only his trousers, revealing that he now held a padded cuff in each hand. Ianto licked his lips as he recognised them as the beautifully crafted leather ones he'd admired earlier that week and his back warmed instantly with the phantom memory of being lashed.

He knew those cuffs, he _wanted_ those cuffs, and he stood up, his arms outstretched. A quiet and detached voice in the back of his mind noted his clearly Pavlovian response but he ignored it, wanting only the familiar tightness around his wrists.

Alex smiled knowingly. "Trousers," he said and Ianto hurried to rid himself of the final item of clothing, folding them neatly and adding them to the rest piled on the corner of the bed. When he straightened up, Alex was beside him and he fixed the snug cuffs to the wrists Ianto presented again promptly.

"Sit," he said again and Ianto did so. "Arms behind your back." He leaned down and reached behind Ianto to attach the short chain on one cuff to a hook on the other, binding his arms firmly in place.

Alex pulled back, trailing a hand over Ianto's bicep and then around to the back of his neck. He smiled, moving to sit beside Ianto, but as he turned, he tightened his grip and pulled the young man with him.

In one graceful movement, Ianto found himself staring at the carpet.

He blinked dumbly, trying to work out what had just happened, as Alex rearranged them both, widening his legs to help Ianto balance. A hand settled on the small of his back, beneath his own trapped hands, whilst the other slid between his shoulder blades. Ianto's mind finally caught up with his position across the other man's lap, his head almost touching the floor and his backside sticking up in the air. If the blood wasn't already rushing to his face from being upside down, he would have blushed.

"Alex," he began, only to be silenced by a sharp slap to the backs of his thighs.

"You said you trusted me, remember?"

It was clearly a rhetorical question and so Ianto said nothing, merely grudgingly accepted the truth of his words. He had said that, and he _did_ trust Alex – he undoubtedly knew more about this kind of thing than Ianto himself – it was simply rather unsettling to find himself sprawled across someone's knees without any warning.

Fingers swept over his back, over the faint lines that had almost entirely faded since their last session. Ianto shivered, remembering, and tried to focus on his breathing as Alex's hand slid down across his twisted arms to the waistband of his underwear. Ianto's heart began to race. He'd known what this position had meant the moment Alex had swung him over, but the observant part of his mind only started speaking up when the other man's hand traced one round buttock through the tight dark cotton.

He shifted automatically, discomfort rising and got another slap to his thighs for it.

The fingers returned to the band of elastic and tugged slowly downwards, exposing Ianto's backside but not completely removing the garment, letting the waistband hug the underside of his ass and pull against his cock where it was still trapped inside the material.

"You have a male lover, don't you?" Alex asked suddenly, his hand stroking over Ianto's skin. "That's why you insisted I only leave light marks on your back."

Ianto's breath was coming faster now, his attention divided between trying to balance himself on his toes and reminding himself that he needed to trust this man.

"But you can't be that close if you're confident he won't notice anything even as faint as this on your body." Ianto could hear the smile in Alex's voice. "Unless you top...but somehow I can't imagine you limiting yourself like that." The older man ran his hand over the base of Ianto's spine. "I suppose you could only use certain positions until the marks had faded, but how would you explain such a request?" The legs under Ianto's chest shifted slightly as the older man shrugged. "Either way, he doesn't have a clue what makes you tick. He doesn't know about this at all, does he?"

Ianto stared at the carpet, unwilling to respond. Jack had nothing to do with this part of his life and he certainly didn't want to start discussing how close – or not, as the case might be – he was to the Captain.

Alex's hand fell heavily against Ianto's ass. "I asked you a question."

Ianto jerked in surprise, the slap harder than the ones on his thighs had been. "No," he said. "He doesn't."

"What's his name?"

Ianto hesitated and received another smack almost instantly. He shook his head, refusing to answer. Alex slapped him again and his hips jolted forward, pushing his trapped cock into the older man's thigh. A strangled noise escaped his throat, embarrassment threatening to overwhelm him. He squirmed and Alex's other hand moved to the back of his neck, stilling him with that simple touch.

"Tell me his name," Alex said, quiet but firm, accompanying every following moment of silence with a stinging slap.

He repeated the question a number of times, but Ianto could only hear his voice and not his words, the sound a distant murmur as the strikes against his backside continued. His buttocks clenched in anticipation of every smack and his entire body rocked as they increased swiftly in strength. _Whack...whack...WHACK!_ A particularly harsh hit to the increasingly tender area made Ianto gasp out loud.

"Owen!" he cried through gritted teeth, only just able to retain hold of his senses to keep from answering honestly. "His name's Owen!"

He braced himself for the next slap, half expecting Alex to see through his lie, but it didn't come. Instead the older man's palm rubbed over his reddened skin, gentle and soothing. "Good boy," Alex murmured and Ianto swallowed a bitter laugh, reminded of his earlier thoughts about being treated like a dog.

"Do you know why you come here?" Alex asked casually, as though he wasn't currently fondling the ass of the fully-grown man lying across his lap.

Ianto frowned at the question, feeling like he was two steps behind and even further out of his depth. He thought about it for a moment...why _was_ he here? Here in this man's bedroom, almost entirely naked and being spanked?

His face burnt with humiliation as he pictured what he must look like, bent over Alex's knees like a misbehaving child in need of discipline, his backside exposed and covered in bright red handprints.

As though in response to his thought, another sharp blow fell, making him jump from both the sound and the pain upon his sensitive skin. He shook his head, then realised that wouldn't be enough of an answer. "No!" he cried out.

He'd been avoiding considering too deeply the reason why he felt the need to have this man hurt him; when he was at work or at home (on the odd occasion he was actually there) he made the effort not to think about it, lest his secret show through in his behaviour. When he was here with Alex, he stopped thinking all together and instead simply felt his way through the sessions.

Despite Ianto's response, the open palm continued to strike against his backside, falling harder and harder, causing him to jerk rhythmically against Alex's leg. _WHACK...WHACK..._ His cock began to swell with blood, the friction exciting him against his will, and though he squirmed, ashamed, the older man had too firm a hold upon him and he could not move away. His groin rubbed against the strong muscled thigh beneath him, creating a luscious counterpoint to the stinging of his abused cheeks.

"You're lying."

"No!" Ianto said again, only barely aware of the strained conversation, whilst the sensations throughout his body tried their best to distract him.

"You come here to forget about your problems," the older Welshman answered for him. "To let go and step outside yourself." He accompanied his words with a flurry of hard, bruising blows and then, without warning, Ianto was on his back, shoved from Alex's knees to the floor. His side burnt from scraping across the carpet but that barely registered as he stared up at the man looming over him, trying to work out how he could have been pushed down again without instinctively trying to defend himself. Where had all his training gone?

Alex twisted slightly, snatching up Ianto's hastily, yet neatly, folded clothes from the corner of the bed and flinging them to the floor. "Up," he commanded.

Ianto glanced at his crumpled suit in mute dismay and a fist closed in his hair, dragging him to his knees. "Up," Alex growled again and Ianto found his feet just in time to keep from being hauled onto the bed by his hair. He sprawled over the covers in an ungainly heap and then struggled to push himself up when he realised what position he was in.

Just as he managed to sit upright, legs caught in a tangle beneath him, the bed dipped with the other man's weight and warm skin pressed against his back.

"You're a very reserved man, Ianto. You pride yourself on your control, don't you?"

Ianto tensed in alarm as Alex's cloth-covered groin pushed against his bound hands, the hardness there unmistakable. It was bad enough that his own cock still stood defiantly half-erect in the confines of his underwear, but to know that the other man was aroused as well almost sent him over the edge into a full-blown panic attack. His heart raced, his breathing loud and laboured and Ianto was struck with a sudden memory from the first day he'd met Alex.

_"Before we discuss anything else, I have to make something very clear. I'm not selling sex here. I'm not a whore."_

Ianto gasped as lips touched his neck, strong arms encircling him and hands smoothing over his chest.

_"I didn't presume that you were."_

Alex curled his fingers, digging his nails into Ianto's flesh and scraping them down his pectorals, leaving eight individual arcs of red in their wake. Ianto gasped and tried to flinch away from the pain, yet only managed to push back harder against the other man.

"One can only hold back their emotions for so long," Alex murmured into his ear. "Then they have to be expelled." He rocked against Ianto's balled fists. "You chose light bondage and pain to counter your strict need for control, but it wasn't enough."

He removed one hand from Ianto's chest and fumbled between them, pulling down his jogging bottoms and letting his cock spring free.

Ianto began to tremble.

"Open your hands."

Ianto shook his head. He couldn't speak.

"Open your hands," Alex repeated, and this time there was clear warning in his rumbling tone.

Ianto obediently loosened his fists and the other man slid his erection into their grasp. Alex used his free hand to curl Ianto's fingers around his stiff flesh before returning it to his chest.

"Tell me how you feel."

Ianto gave a weak laugh of disbelief and Alex began to push into the tunnel formed by his hands.

"You're scared," Alex said. "You're embarrassed. You can't do anything to stop me." The older man reached down and pushed his fingers into Ianto's boxers. "I'm stronger than you. Even if your arms weren't tied, you'd be no match for me." He pulled the material down over Ianto's hard cock, wrapped a hand around it and began to stroke. "You've got no control, Ianto. I can do whatever I want and you have to take it."

Ianto drew in a sharp breath, the heady mixture of what was happening to his body and the revelation that he truly had no power over this situation sending an astonishing sensation of freedom through him. He wasn't doing anything, he didn't _have_ to do anything, everything was happening to him and all he could do was let it.

His hips lifted slightly in response to the stimulation and Alex's other hand slipped down to cup his balls, rolling them firmly between his fingers. Behind him, Ianto's own fists tightened, squeezing the hardness they held. Hot breath gusted over his ear, Alex leaning even closer as he thrust into Ianto's hands. He licked at Ianto's neck, directly over the throb of his racing pulse, then nipped at the skin and the younger man's head dropped back in submission, giving him better access.

The fingers around his cock tightened, thumb slipping into the leaking slit at the peak of every jerk, and his balls were kneaded until they ached.

Ianto fought the sensations, hated the way his body pushed into the other man's hands, the way his hands gripped the thick cock and imagined what it would be like to have it forced inside him. It was wrong, so wrong, but still he spiralled up towards orgasm with alarming haste, breath hiccupping out of dry lips until suddenly he was coming in a violent burst, spilling himself across the sheets with a pained cry of ecstasy.

Alex continued to stroke him, milking him until it hurt. "Harder," he whispered into Ianto's ear and the young man's hands dutifully clenched around Alex's cock, sending him over the edge with a joyful grunt, his seed arcing up across Ianto's faintly striped back.


	7. Chapter 7: Monday

A/N: Just a short chapter to keep you going; more soon, I promise! Thanks for reading!

* * *

Ianto let himself into his flat and collapsed against the door, the suit jacket in his hand falling to the floor, already forgotten. He couldn't remember much about the journey home, which he knew should alarm him, but he was far too preoccupied trying not to think about Alex to worry about that.

And of course trying not to think about something meant he could think of nothing else.

He'd never expected his sessions with Alex to ever include anything like what had just happened; mostly because that rule had been established upon their very first meeting, but also because Ianto himself had never wanted to connect his need to anything sexual.

It was a line he hadn't been willing to even consider crossing, and yet he'd just allowed it to happen.

Ianto drew in a deep breath, mentally pushing aside the incident as he reached for his mask of control. He marvelled at how easy it was to find this time. For the past month or so he'd fallen into a routine with Alex and it had been getting harder to leave his secret behind when he stepped outside the playroom. Now, however, it was as though the incident was just too much for him to fully take in and that somehow made it easier to pretend that it hadn't happened.

Ianto closed his eyes, chin dropping to his chest, and he rested a moment longer to let his mind settle before heading for his usual post-session shower; during which, he hoped, the matter would be completely expunged from his thoughts. He wanted to be fully in command of himself when he headed back to the Hub in a few hours time and faced Jack, knowing he'd spent the night at Gwen's side, sharing his secrets with her.

There came a sound, the muffled noise of movement over carpet, and Ianto's eyes snapped open to find Jack standing before him, coatless, shoeless, his head cocked to the side and a faint smile on his lips.

"Hard day at work, dear?"

Ianto blinked and straightened quickly, hoping the surprise didn't show on his face. It wasn't as though Jack had never let himself into Ianto's home before – despite the fact Ianto had never officially given him a key – and he really had no cause to be alarmed by the other man's presence. He managed a sympathetic smile in response, knowing that Jack's humour was only a cover for the pain he was feeling.

"My boss is a slave-driver," he said, glad to find the wit there when he called for it. "It's a wonder I'm still standing."

"The cad," Jack replied, his grin widening until it almost reached his eyes.

Ianto noticed the change, realising belatedly that the smile hadn't been anywhere near Jack's eyes before. He stepped forward, dropping his keys onto the nearest surface and pulled the other man into an embrace, sadness descending upon him as Jack buried his face in his neck.

"Are you all right?" he asked softly.

"I sat with her for hours," Jack replied in a low voice, "then I couldn't sit there any longer. Owen's watching over her now."

"You would have regretted it if you hadn't gone."

Jack sighed. "I know."

"We'll find a cure. No matter how long it takes we'll find it and then you can have her back, just the way she is now." As he spoke, Ianto felt the sadness twisting into unexpected bitterness. Even if it were to take them years to heal Gwen, she'd be revived exactly as she was the day they froze her; young, healthy and grateful for the second chance at life. But where would Ianto be then? Old? Out of the picture? Dead?

He rested his head against Jack's, hands rubbing circles on his back, and pushed aside the unwanted and traitorous thoughts. Jack turned away from his neck, capturing his lips softly.

Ianto returned the kiss for a few minutes before pulling back. "Jack..." he began, only to trail off when he realised he didn't know what he wanted to say.

"I feel like I haven't seen you all week," the Captain murmured, pressing his lips to the skin just below Ianto's ear.

The young man tensed. Alex had kissed the other side of his neck, but Ianto was convinced Jack would be able to tell, to taste the guilt upon him and realise what had happened. "It's been a tough few days," Ianto replied, taking hold of Jack's head and luring him away with another kiss.

Jack turned willingly in his hold, grasping the younger man tightly and trying to devour him with obvious need. Ianto moaned at the sudden desperate passion, aching for his lover, wishing dearly to take away his pain.

A hand stroked along Ianto's neck, down over his Adam's apple onto his chest and quickly loosened his tie. So quick, in fact, that by the time Ianto's brain caught up with what was about to happen, Jack had already tugged his shirt halfway open.

The Captain leaned back, hungry eyes following the movement of his fingers, but then he froze, the smile fading from his lips. "What's this?" he asked, brow creasing in confusion. His fingers moved upwards again, over the sharp red lines visible beneath Ianto's parted collar.

Before Ianto could reply, Jack yanked his shirt the rest of the way open, one button popping off and dropping forlornly to the floor. Ianto's eyes automatically followed to see where it landed, making no move to try and hide his chest from Jack. He knew without a doubt it would be pointless to even attempt it, for the Captain rarely accepted not getting an answer, and he was certainly not going to ignore such deep scratches.

"It's...uh..." Ianto stopped and grimaced; if he could hear the guilt in his own voice, surely Jack could too. He swallowed and started again. "All this talk of rashes has given me phantom itches as well." He took hold of Jack's hands, moving them away from his chest. "It's stupid, but I can't stop myself."

"They're bleeding."

"They _were_ bleeding. I got a bit carried away, that's all. They'll heal soon enough."

Jack stared at the scratches until Ianto pulled his shirt over them. The Welshman smiled gently when Jack looked up. "It's nothing," he said. "Forget about them." He leaned in, once more distracting his lover with a kiss, giving it his full attention until they were both gasping for breath.

"Ianto," Jack said, gaze flickering across his features, trying to take them all in at once. Ianto recognised the emotion in his eyes, the illogical fear that being so close to losing Gwen meant he would lose the others around him as well.

His chest tightening, Ianto grabbed Jack's hands again, pulling on them to make the older man follow as he walked backwards towards the bedroom, eyes locked with Jack's the entire way.

Through the doorway, he kept hold of Jack until the backs of his knees hit the bed (not wanting to give the Captain the chance to turn on a light) and as he fell back onto the duvet, he wrapped his arms around Jack, bringing them both horizontal, already locked in another heated kiss.

Tongues sliding against each another, Jack took control, pinning Ianto's body with his own as the young man let him thoroughly explore his mouth. Jack's breath huffed loudly through his nose, his hands roaming, too quick to actually linger and tease. The need within him was so great that he clearly didn't know what he wanted, only that he wanted it right away.

When questing fingers slid beneath Ianto to cup his ass, a sudden terror swept through his body. His backside was burning still, was probably bright red as well, and he was sure Jack would be able to feel the heat, even through the material of his trousers. Ianto rolled them over with a surge of energy, turning the focus away from himself.

He made swift work of opening Jack's shirt, then pushed up the white t-shirt beneath to expose his chest. Jack groaned as Ianto swept his lips over his skin, pausing to bite gently at his nipples, hands rubbing along his sides and down to his belt. The leather vanished and his trousers followed soon after, and then Ianto had his fingers in the bulging underwear, pulling out Jack's cock and sliding his mouth over it without any warning.

Jack bucked up into the wet heat, gasping, and Ianto smiled inwardly, always happy when he managed to elicit such a reaction from his immortal lover. He set a steady but strong pace, determined to keep Jack from even thinking about doing anything but lie back and enjoy himself.

"Ianto!" Jack growled, his hands clenching in the other man's hair as Ianto swallowed around his cock.

Ianto chuckled, sending vibrations through the solid flesh and moved his lips upwards, flicking the tip of his tongue over the leaking head before plunging down again. Jack's hips moved beneath his hands, trying to thrust forward, but Ianto held him still as he bobbed up and down, hollowing his cheeks and sucking even harder.

Jack's body tensed abruptly and warmth flooded Ianto's mouth, a cry of pleasure filling the darkened room. Ianto swallowed, lapping the softening cock clean before moving up for a lazy kiss.

Jack smiled at his own taste, but when he pulled back to speak, Ianto silenced him with another quick peck to his lips. "Ssh," the young man whispered. "Sleep." He gathered Jack in his arms and prayed he would be tired enough from the stress of the week to give in and allow himself to rest. Ianto needed to shower, to wash away Alex's scent before he allowed Jack to fully lose himself in his body, and he could only do that if Jack was asleep and thus unable to question his actions.

The Captain frowned at him, his expression barely visible in the light from the hallway, but after a few minutes of gentle words and even gentler kissing, he finally slipped into a doze just deep enough to allow Ianto to extract himself from their tangled limbs and make his escape into the bathroom.


	8. Chapter 8

The atmosphere in the medical bay was deeply uneasy; the people gathered there projecting feelings of helplessness and worry that swirled almost tangibly about the room.

Rhys had finally been allowed into the Hub to see Gwen before she was put into cryo, but only on the provision that he wear a Hazmat suit to avoid catching the virus as well. He looked lost within the over-sized garment, his face barely visible behind the reflective helmet, yet the slump of his shoulders as he sat at Gwen's side spoke clearly enough of his dismay.

The rest of the team moved purposefully around the bed, getting everything ready for the freezing process. They had only done this a few times in the past, including the failed attempt with Beth Halloran, but they knew precisely what was required and worked together in determined silence.

Jack stood above them all on the upper level, elbows cupped in his hands and brow creased in thought. He was staring, not at Gwen – he'd already said his goodbyes to her – but rather at Ianto.

He'd woken that morning from an (apparently) much-needed sleep and lain in Ianto's arms until the alarm went off, taking the opportunity to simply stop and rest for a while. During those long quiet minutes, however, he'd had time to examine certain facts; details that were gradually coming together in his mind to form a picture of what was wrong with Ianto.

At the forefront of his thoughts had been the rather belated realisation that the scratches upon Ianto's chest were at the entirely wrong angle to have been self-inflicted. They were certainly not the kind produced by paranoid itching and Ianto had to know he couldn't get away with that lie for long, so why even attempt to deceive him with such a weak story?

Jack clenched his jaw unhappily. If Ianto was seeing someone else, why hide it? The young Welshman knew that Jack's beliefs were vastly different to the rigid principles of this era, and whilst Ianto may have been brought up surrounded by them himself, Jack knew he didn't hold tightly with such standards either.

Ianto did not subscribe to all of society's rules, whether it be the insistent labelling or the presumption of exclusivity. He had no respect for those who cheated on their loved ones, but only if the couple had agreed on a monogamous relationship. When it was a purely physical arrangement, a simple enjoyment of what was freely given and taken, then there was no reason to assume a promise of complete loyalty.

So Jack knew that Ianto would not feel he had to keep another lover secret – in fact he'd likely think Jack would want to hear every sordid detail – and he could tell by the intensity in Ianto's eyes when they were together that the young man still wanted Jack and was not looking to bring their fun to an end in favour of another.

And yet there was clearly someone else on the scene. Those scratches confirmed it, even if they didn't provide any clue as to who had made them.

Jack shook his head slightly to himself. Surely this couldn't be the reason behind Ianto's recent erratic behaviour, could it? Could something so innocent have weighed on his mind so heavily?

As though sensing the eyes upon him, Ianto glanced up suddenly. He gave a faint but reassuring smile and Jack knew it was from the heart. He couldn't, however, return the gesture; he was far too perplexed by this mystery to even think of it.

Ianto had spent the past few months acting as though he was over his ordeal with the psychic alien, only to suddenly admit under pressure that he wasn't really coping as well as he'd claimed. Now there appeared to be someone else involved, _intimately_ perhaps, and that new development created more questions than it answered concerning the enigma that was Ianto Jones.

* * *

Once Gwen's body had been taken down to cold storage, it was as though all the energy evaporated from the remaining members of the team. They stood together for a good five minutes in the medical bay, exchanging glances and watching the screen Owen had set up to display Gwen's almost non-existent vitals. It wasn't that they suspected she would break the stasis like Beth had, it was rather more the fact they couldn't quite believe they'd had to freeze her in the first place.

Ianto studied Jack's profile as he stared at the numbers scrolling across the monitor. The Captain had been quiet all morning, which was perhaps to be expected considering the circumstances, but it was still unlike the immortal not to at least try and hide his anxiety behind a quip or a declaration that everything would work out sooner rather than later.

Ianto placed a hand on Jack's shoulder in silent support and offered a faint smile before looking over to where Rhys was sitting on the steps, still fully ensconced in his protective suit. "I'll take Rhys home," he said quietly. "And I'll make sure he's got food in the house as well. Gwen wouldn't want him ill because of her."

Jack nodded, but said nothing and Ianto made his way over to the other Welshman, easing him to his feet with gentle words. Rhys had been angry when he'd first arrived, but that had all vanished now that Gwen was packed away, leaving him mute and pliable as Ianto coaxed him through the Hub.

They headed towards to a corridor that would lead, via a clean room to remove the Hazmat suit, down to the car park. All the way across the large central space, Ianto could feel Jack's eyes upon his back and he found himself praying that the usually irrepressible man would not remain this muted version of himself all the time Gwen was in cryo.

* * *

When Ianto returned from dropping off the despondent Rhys and checking that the apartment held enough food to get the grieving man through the next few days, he was surprised to find the Hub a hive of activity instead of the quiet maudlin atmosphere he'd left earlier.

He ascended the steps to his colleagues warily, unsure of what to make of the unexpected change.

"Good, you're back," Jack said, turning away from the screen he'd been reading over Tosh's shoulder. "I want you to go get one of those aliens we found the other day and bring it up here for Owen to poke at. Tosh and I are going to have another look at the pod, so you'll have to be Owen's assistant for the day." He gave the younger man a bright smile, which was surprisingly close to his usual dazzling grin.

"Yeah," Owen cheerfully added from his workstation, "so you'd better snap on your prophylactics on and start wranglin' those sluggies!"

Ianto blinked. Although he'd become somewhat experienced at concealing his own thoughts and emotions, he couldn't help but feel surprised when others did it as well. Not an hour after they'd frozen Gwen, everyone was working at full speed, as though nothing had happened at all. He wanted to tell them to stop trying so hard, but then realised how much of a hypocrite that would make him.

Taking their lead, he slipped easily into the disguise he'd been hiding behind for the past few months. "That sounds great," he agreed amiably, moving off towards the lower levels. "I'll go pick one out now."

The smirk on Owen's face soured slightly when Ianto failed to protest and the young man couldn't help but push it a little further. "Didn't it occur to you," he murmured as he passed the doctor's workstation, "that I might _enjoy_ handling thick slippery lengths of flesh?"

Owen spluttered a little in response and Ianto smiled victoriously to himself as he set off to see to his new chore, incredibly comfortable within the mantle of false normality that had fallen across the Hub.

* * *

Jack lingered in the doorway and stared at Ianto's back, studying the way he stood with his hands balled into fists upon his hips.

He'd followed the other man down to where the slug-like creatures were being kept only minutes after giving out his orders, too impatient to wait to broach a certain subject with Ianto. The determination that had filled him after they'd finished with Gwen, the resolve to keep the situation from completely disrupting Torchwood's work, had also given him the urge to deal with Ianto as well. Even though he knew he probably shouldn't rush such a delicate operation, he had been unable to keep from pursuing his lover in order to make his request as soon as possible.

Upon finding Ianto in a stance that seemed less than welcoming, however, he'd paused to better gauge the situation, and inevitably he'd begun to question the plan he had devised as a means to discover what was going on with the reticent Welshman.

Ianto tutted to himself and moved aside, giving Jack a view of the small compartments used for captives that weren't suited for the larger cells. The slugs took up the entire middle row of the units and it seemed that they had made themselves fully at home; coating every surface with the thick viscous secretions that covered their bodies. Jack smiled, immediately recognising this to be the cause of Ianto's disapproving posture, and not some dark mood that had settled over him.

"I want you to come out with me tonight," the Captain declared suddenly, the words escaping his lips before he'd even made a firm judgement on his plan.

Ianto's head tilted slightly, the casual movement showing no sign of alarm at the older man's stealthy arrival. "Oh, really?" he asked. He wasn't quite looking all the way over his shoulder, but Jack could imagine one of his eyebrows arching playfully.

The immortal hesitated; it was very rare nowadays that he spoke without thinking, and even rarer that he feel doubt about a plan he'd decided needed to be carried out. He knew what had to be done, but doing it was another matter altogether.

As the silence dragged on, Ianto turned, his expression one of concern when Jack failed to respond in the expected seductive manner. "What's the matter?" the young man asked.

Jack licked his lips, mind tripping over itself as he weighed the pros and cons of his idea once again.

He'd already hinted earlier that week about them going out for a suspiciously date-like evening, hoping that a casual few hours together might encourage Ianto to open up a little more. Perhaps asking him to talk about it would work now, if the atmosphere was relaxed enough; perhaps showing Ianto that he wanted to listen and understand would convince the Welshman to finally explain what was going on.

Jack smiled inwardly at the impossible idea. No, he knew Ianto well enough to know that – no matter how much he hated to deceive the young man – the only way he was going to succeed was by less than honourable means.

He shook his head ruefully. "I need your help," he admitted.

"With what?"

"All the time I was out of the Hub last week, I was looking for something to help Gwen," Jack explained. "I think you might be able to help me find it."

Ianto frowned, his eyes searching the immortal's for more information and Jack had to force himself not to shift under that penetrating gaze. He refused to feel guilty for his decision; he'd given Ianto time to sort things out for himself and when nothing changed he'd asked that Ianto be honest with him and explain what the problem was.

The fact that Ianto had failed to take advantage of those opportunities meant that Jack really only had one last method of discovering his secret.

He was going to have to cheat.


	9. Chapter 9

A/N: RL is totally infringing on my online time, so replies to reviews may be sparse. Fear not tho, updates should remain steady. Yay!

* * *

Ianto remembered the Queen's Skirts from his teenage years; or rather he remembered a vague blur of sticky carpets, false IDs and praying that he pulled so his mates wouldn't make fun of him the next day.

Fortunately, ownership of the pub had changed hands a few times since then and the room he walked into was vastly improved from the grungy place it had once been. There were booths running along the walls, with high partitions dividing the tables to give the illusion of privacy, and the furniture filling the rest of the room was modern, if not very high quality. It had clearly become far more food-orientated than in the past, but Jack had insisted that anywhere which sold alcohol was a viable location for their quarry. Even if the person they were searching for looked too young to be in such an establishment.

Ianto made a quick circuit of the room, but there were very few people out so late on a Monday night and he was soon back at the bar signalling the man behind it, deciding now was as good a time as any to have a break from his fruitless search.

Jack had assured him the girl they were looking for would be able to help Gwen somehow, but he'd been having trouble tracking her down. In Ianto's opinion that meant she didn't _want _to be found, but Jack clearly didn't wish to admit defeat yet. Which was fair enough, Ianto supposed, when his only remaining hopes of finding Gwen's cure were this mysteriously elusive girl and the even more elusive Doctor.

Ianto paid the bartender and had just taken his first sip of cool lager when his mobile began to ring. The young man rolled his eyes and began to fish it out of his pocket, cursing Jack mentally for his impatience – he'd already checked on Ianto's progress four times in the two hours they'd been searching – but as his fingers closed around the small phone Ianto realised it couldn't be Jack; he would have contacted him over the comm.

Ianto glanced at the screen of the trilling mobile, recognising the number displayed there instantly. He frowned and took his drink over to one of the empty booths, sliding in along the padded leather bench before pressing the button to accept the call.

"Hello?" he said neutrally, in case he had somehow mistaken the number.

"Ianto," Alex's voice purred down the line.

Ianto shivered slightly, mind flashing back to the previous night, of Alex murmuring in his ear as he pushed into the tunnel formed by Ianto's bound hands.

When he failed to respond, Alex spoke again. "Ianto, are you there?"

"Yes," he replied, noting the slight edge to the other's tone.

"Good, good." There was a pause, then, "What are you doing?"

Ianto's frown deepened. Was he calling for a chat? "I'm working."

"Working?" Alex laughed. "It's half-eleven, don't lie to me."

"I'm not. I'm working late."

"Doing what?"

Ianto blinked. One of Alex's rules was not to share personal details, yet here he was asking for them. "It doesn't matter."

"But you've intrigued me now. What do you do?"

"Did you call for any particular reason, Alex?" Ianto countered.

Another laugh rumbled along the line. "Okay, fine, have your little secret. I just called to see if you were coming over."

"What?" Ianto scowled at his bottle of lager as though the one mouthful he'd taken was to blame for this surreal conversation.

"I think you should come over," Alex amended, his voice dropping into a low and commanding tone.

"I...I can't."

"You should."

"But I don't need-"

Alex cut him off. "How's your day been?"

"What?" Ianto asked again, caught off guard.

"Your day, it's been good, hasn't it? No feelings of anxiety, no sense of being out of control, am I right?"

"I..." Ianto struggled with his answer. Alex _was_ right; despite what they'd had to do that morning, he had felt almost entirely himself for the first time in months. That didn't explain how the other man knew that though. "Well, yes, but..."

"I'm good at reading people, Ianto," the other man told him. "I'm especially good at being able to tell what they need. And you need to relinquish control _fully_ before you can regain it again."

Ianto stared blindly at the dark tabletop, unsure how to deal with this conversation when his mind was tuned into the other half of his dual life.

"You should come over," Alex went on, voice seductively low. "We'll pick up where we left off last night."

There was movement in the corner of Ianto's eye and he looked up to find that someone else was now sitting on the other side of the table. He gaped in bewilderment at the girl who'd appeared so suddenly; wondering how she had managed to sneak up on him. "I have to go," he said into the mobile, hanging up before the other Welshman could protest.

"Hi," Ianto said, swiftly taking in the new arrival. She looked young, as Jack had told him, but her demeanour hinted at something disturbingly old. Her gaze flicked up as he studied her, then returned to the deck of worn cards in her hands, her expression blank.

Ianto felt a shudder pass along his spine at that brief glimpse of her eyes. They were as dark as a cloudless night, but without any stars to lighten them. Looking into that darkness was like falling into a vacuum which sucked not the air but rather the noise from the room.

Yes, Ianto decided, this was definitely the girl Jack was looking for.

He lowered his phone to the table whilst slowly lifting his free hand to his other ear to activate his comm.

"Don't bother," the girl said, her impossible eyes fixed on the tarot cards she was shuffling.

Ianto's hand froze and then inexplicably dropped. "I-"

His mobile began to ring again, vibrating noisily across the table, and he stared at it dumbly for a moment before quickly rejecting the call.

"We've been looking for you," he said, returning his attention to the girl. "_Jack's_ been looking for you."

"I know."

Ianto nodded to himself; so she had been avoiding Jack on purpose after all. "He needs to ask you something, will you see him?"

The girl began to lay out a line of three cards. "I will see him," she replied in an even tone. "And I will speak to him."

"Great." Ianto lifted his hand to his ear.

"Don't bother," she said again, nudging one corner of a card to bring it in line with the others. "The Fool," she read. "You're looking for something."

Ianto leaned forward slightly. "Jack thinks you can help us. Our friend is ill and-"

The girl looked up, silencing him with those dark eyes. "This reading isn't for _her_," she told him brusquely.

Ianto scowled at the cards she was still fingering; tarot reading was not something he believed in, but when he opened his mouth to tell her that he was stopped by his mobile ringing once more. Huffing with frustration, Ianto switched it off completely; he couldn't deal with Alex on top of everything else right then.

"The Hanged Man and the Tower," the girl was saying thoughtfully. "You're looking in the wrong place, for the wrong thing."

Ianto froze and then immediately rebuked himself for even considering that she could know anything about him. The words were vague enough to be interpreted any number of ways; like any other form of cold-reading, it was a trick to let people make their own connections.

"That's great," he said, "but Jack needs to know-"

"You shouldn't ask on his behalf when he can do it himself," the girl said and once Ianto had gotten over the fact he'd been interrupted _again, _he actually registered what she'd said.

"Okay." He shrugged and reached for his comm. for the third time in as many minutes. "I'll get him to come here then."

"I keep telling you, you don't need to bother with that. He can already hear us. Isn't that right, Captain?"

Ianto frowned at her and then tensed in sudden realisation as he heard movement behind him. He looked up as the man who was supposed to be halfway across the city conducting his own search for this girl came into sight. Jack didn't meet his eyes, staring instead at the girl, his expression cold and unimpressed. "So you'll finally talk to me?"

She ignored him and set down another trio of cards above the first set.

"What are you doing here?" Ianto asked Jack, not at all sure what to make of his presence.

The older man gave a blithe smile, still not looking at him. "She might have been avoiding me, but I was sure she'd come out for you."

"Me? Why?"

"She seems to be drawn to people who need direction."

Ianto's mouth worked, trying to decide between the dozen questions he wanted to ask, until he finally settled on a rather inelegant, "What?"

Jack simply shook his head, refusing to answer.

"Your heart will be pierced by Time," the girl announced. She stroked her fingers over one of the other cards. _The Wheel of Fortune_, Ianto read upside down. "Then you'll be able to see clearly again."

"Pierced by time?" Ianto repeated dubiously. "Right, let me guess, that's supposed to mean time will pass and we'll learn something?" He rolled his eyes, his patience always stretched by so-called psychic intuition. "Very prophetic, thank you."

The girl clearly didn't appreciate his sarcasm and she glared at him with her bottomless eyes. "Do not be facetious. Time will stop passing but the Wheel will still turn, giving you the answer you seek."

Ianto looked up at Jack, his eyebrows raised. "You really think she can help Gwen?"

Jack shrugged. "Maybe she can't personally help, but she can tell _us _what we need to do." He moved closer to the table. "How do we save her?" he asked.

"That is the wrong question, Captain," the girl replied. She selected a further three cards. "Ah, the Magician emerges." She eyed Ianto wryly. "That means skill and resource, if you were wondering, not Houdini."

Ianto blinked, caught off guard by her dry and unexpected humour. "Well, he _is_ dead," he admitted, unable to keep himself from responding to that mocking tone. "It would have been impressive if he had 'emerged', though."

"What is the right question?" Jack asked, his patience waning at their bickering.

She giggled, sounding for the first time like the child she appeared to be. "It would be rather remiss of me to give you both the question and the answer, wouldn't it?"

"Okay, fine, _can _we save her?" the Captain tried.

"No."

The blood drained from Jack's face but Ianto quickly spoke up, seeing where he'd fallen into her verbal trap. "Can someone else?"

The girl's lips twitched into a smile. "Yes."

Jack's expression cleared immediately and he leaned on the table, looming over her. "Who?"

"Do you see names written upon my cards?" the girl asked, shaking her head in disappointment. "The Magician emerges and the Sun prevails."

"What does the Sun represent then?" Ianto asked, surprising himself by encouraging her little show.

"In this instance? Success."

Ianto glanced up at Jack. Did he really think this girl held the answer to Gwen's cure? Beyond dropping hints that she believed Gwen would recover, she really wasn't telling them anything helpful.

The Captain met his gaze at last, and although Ianto was expecting to see that Jack shared his misgivings, he was surprised to find optimism in the other's eyes. He didn't understand how such vague and helpless comments from this strange little girl could give Jack hope.

"You may go now," the girl said in sudden dismissal and Ianto turned back at her commanding tone.

"You didn't exactly answer our questions," he pointed out, not feeling nearly as convinced as Jack seemed.

"I only answer what can be answered," she responded, a twinkle in her eyes.

Ianto couldn't argue with that logic, but he wasn't about to let her have the last word either. He eyed the cards spread out between them. "Then answer me this: shouldn't you have started a new reading to tell us about Gwen, if the first was about me?"

The girl stared at him, gaze intense and unblinking, as she uncovered the next card in the deck. "Intertwined fates can be read together." She glanced from Ianto to Jack and then to the card in her hand. She smiled and placed it flat on the table, turning it so Ianto could see clearly.

"The Emperor?" he asked, one eyebrow lifting dubiously. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"It is a gift for you, Ianto," she said, her smile almost shy. "Take it."

"What does it mean?" he repeated, wondering idly how she knew his name.

The girl said nothing, merely focused on gathering up the rest of her cards, the demure smile still lingering on her rosebud lips.


	10. Chapter 10

A/N: Um, what I said about RL not disrupting my posting...? Yeah, seems I was wrong. Sorry guys! I'll try and get another chapter up this weekend to make up for it!

* * *

Jack released Ianto's elbow as they stepped outside, the young man no longer insistent on trying to talk to the girl again. He looked around for a moment, breathing in the chill night air, and then turned back to his companion.

Before he could say anything, Ianto began to speak. "So the creepy little girl hints that Gwen's going to be okay and you just believe her, no questions asked?"

Jack pursed his lips. "That's funny, I recall asking a few questions."

"Right." Ianto glanced skyward and pulled his jacket tighter around himself. "Seriously, though, that's it? You've spent days chasing after not a cure, not a lead, but a prepubescent tarot reader who won't even make the effort to embellish her lies?"

"She's not lying."

"And you know this because...?"

Jack gave a half smile. "Because she proved herself when she helped me find the second resurrection gauntlet." He tilted his head thoughtfully, then added, "Also, shortly after I was stranded here, she correctly predicted when the Doctor would turn up again."

Ianto frowned at him. "'Shortly after'...?"

"Oh yes," the Captain declared in amusement, "she looks _great_ for her age, doesn't she?"

"She's..." Ianto trailed off and wearily rubbed a hand over his face, almost poking himself in the eye as he did so with the card he still held. Jack watched as he stared at it, quick eyes taking in every minute detail, before sliding it silently into his coat pocket. "I don't know why I bother to be surprised by this city anymore," he eventually said with a sigh.

"What do you think she meant?" Jack asked, unable to hold back the question any longer. "Those things she said about you; did they make any sense?"

Ianto licked his lips and stared at a nearby street lamp. "No," he said pensively, still looking upwards. A moment later Jack witnessed the precise instant Ianto's scepticism kicked in again and he turned back to the older man with disdain in his eyes. "You can't seriously believe she could read my future by looking at a few cards?"

"It isn't necessarily your future," Jack told him.

"Well, whatever," Ianto said, shrugging, "it didn't mean anything." He started to walk away, shoving his hands into his pockets, only to spin abruptly on his heel and hurry back to the pub's entrance. "Forgot my mobile!" he called over his shoulder.

Jack waited for him by the door. He wasn't surprised by the Welshman's unwillingness to believe in such things. Aliens, spaceships, parasitic lifeforms...all these were well within his limits of acceptance. He had even experienced the existence of psychic abilities for himself, but remove the scientific explanation and put a few dog-eared tarot cards on a table and Ianto was utterly misogynic.

Jack shook his head wryly and thought back over their brief meeting with the little girl.

He hadn't been entirely positive that she would appear for Ianto, but he'd been willing to try and clearly his instincts had been correct. It had been a hunch, a gamble, but those were the foundations upon which Jack had once lived his life – still did in some instances – and they'd certainly proven themselves this time. After four days of searching for the evasive child, she had found Ianto barely two hours into his search.

Jack's desire to find the girl had always been in order to learn of Gwen's fate; he knew he wouldn't get a cure from her, but a clue about the future was all he needed to find the strength to keep going. He had indeed gained a glimmer of hope for Gwen's condition that night, but the additional plan of using Ianto to lure the little girl out had not proven so successful.

The reading she'd given was extraordinarily vague, and Jack wasn't sure he had enough pieces of the puzzle to even attempt to decipher it. He'd expected more precise details from the girl, as he had received himself in the past, but clearly Ianto wasn't so lucky to get that much guidance.

Or maybe, Jack thought darkly, his presence there had caused her to speak in riddles. Perhaps she wasn't one who freely shared the secrets of others. He sighed; wouldn't it just be typical if the best diviner he'd found in the city was also the most moral?

As the young man reappeared through the doorway, phone in hand, Jack was reminded of what else he'd discovered that night.

"You should check your messages," he said in an even tone. "Sounded like someone was eager to get hold of you earlier."

Ianto's response was almost one of panic, for just a brief a second, and then the expression was gone, replaced by the cool mask of impassiveness Jack had come to know so well over the past few years.

"It can wait," he said, slipping the mobile into his pocket without turning it back on.

"Really? Because people don't often ring so late at night just to say hello."

A muscle in Ianto's jaw twitched and Jack knew the baiting was starting to affect him. Unfortunately the immortal didn't have the patience right then to play tricky word games. "Who's Alex?" he asked bluntly instead.

Ianto's features remained impressively composed as Jack revealed just how long he'd been following the Welshman. "A friend," Ianto replied with a shrug. He turned away and began down the street in the direction of his flat, clearly opting to walk home rather than go all the way back to the Hub to pick up his car.

"Is that the same friend who put those scratches on your chest?" Jack asked casually.

Ianto's shoulders tensed and he stopped only three paces away. "I told you," he said after a long silence. "I was itching."

"You're lying. And it's obvious too. Which is worrying, because you normally do such a good job of it."

Ianto turned back slowly to look at Jack. He seemed both surprised and angry, as though he didn't quite know how to take the older man's accusations.

Jack, on the other hand, was becoming more and more baffled by the other's behaviour. He wasn't exaggerating when he praised Ianto's skills at deception, he certainly couldn't deny Ianto's gift for it after successfully hiding Lisa's existence in the Hub for so many months. For the young man to be having such trouble with this new secret now was truly alarming.

Not that Jack especially _wanted _Ianto to succeed in keeping things from him, but by his very nature the Welshman was self-contained and to have that control slip so far meant something very bad indeed was going on.

As Jack compared the current situation to the incident with Lisa, and found it even more disturbing, his determination to solve this mystery was made firmer than ever.

"Is there something wrong?" he asked, because he chose not to believe that Ianto could be doing something as dangerous as the last time; something that could cause harm to others. Of course if it wasn't that kind of secret, it meant it could be another kind of problem altogether. "Is someone bothering you?" he added solemnly.

Ianto continued to stare at him and for all Jack's experience of reading people, he was having trouble working out what was going through the other man's head at that moment in time.

"It's nothing," Ianto said. He then straightened his shoulders, strength returning to his voice as he continued, "It's none of your business."

"What?" Jack was actually stunned. "Of course it is. _You're _my business. If something's wrong, I need to know." Ianto shook his head but Jack ploughed right on. "I thought we'd agreed on no more secrets."

The young man gave a sharp laugh at that. "Not quite, Jack. We agreed that _I_ would have no more secrets. You were very specific about that detail."

"Yeah, because some of the things I've seen should never be experienced. Even if it is only second-hand." Jack got a withering look in response and he felt his grip on his frustration starting to slide. "But we're not talking about me, we're talking about you. And you _did_ agree to no more secrets."

"Maybe I realised it was a foolish promise to make," Ianto said, looking away.

"So you're not going to tell me?"

Ianto rolled his eyes. "There's nothing to tell."

"Other than the fact you're seeing someone who thinks it's okay to make you bleed?"

"Oh because you've never hurt anyone by accident?" came the snarky retort.

Jack immediately knew that he'd won, and by the dawning look of realisation on Ianto's face it was clear he'd also noticed the mistake in not correcting Jack's presumption.

"So you are seeing someone else," the Captain said quietly. He tried to work out how he felt about that, but only got as far as recognising the surprise that Ianto would be so promiscuous. The other emotions the revelation stirred up were a little too dangerous for Jack to consider at that time.

"I'm not seeing him," Ianto protested.

"Okay, fine, you're _sleeping _with someone else," Jack amended, disturbed to hear the bitterness in his own voice.

"I'm not sleeping with him either," Ianto said, his brow creasing as he continued to look away.

"So how do you explain those scratches?" Jack pressed. "Because the way I see it..." He moved suddenly, slipping behind the younger man and bringing his hands around to rest on Ianto's chest. "...he must have been right about _here _to make them."

Within the circle of Jack's arms, Ianto tensed, his breath catching loudly.

"So tell me, what was he doing back here if not fucking you?" Jack breathed into Ianto's ear and the younger man shuddered.

"Nothing," Ianto managed to choke out. His chest was beginning to heave beneath Jack's hands.

"I don't know why you're still lying," Jack went on. "It's not like I wouldn't understand if you were seeing someone else." He ignored the way those words tasted so sour in his mouth. "We haven't exactly made promises of fidelity to each other."

If it was possible, Jack suspected Ianto would have tensed even more. His breath slowed again but his voice was slightly strained as he asked, "So _you've_ been seeing someone else?"

"What?" Jack hesitated; when had this become about him? "No, actually, I haven't." Only after he'd said the words aloud did they register in his mind and disbelief swept over him as he realised the depth of that truth. He hadn't slept with _anyone _else since the first night Ianto had propositioned him. He blinked, alarmed, then stepped back, breaking the contact with his young lover. "But that's not the point," he forced himself to say, "the point is it's not a problem if you and this Alex-"

"God, are you even listening to me?" Ianto exploded suddenly, spinning to face the immortal. "I told you I'm not seeing him, I'm not sleeping with him, he's no one, dammit, no one!"

Jack felt his lips twitch upwards; always inappropriately amused by Ianto's rare emotional outbursts. "So not a friend then?"

The Welshman's expression instantly closed up, belatedly realising that he'd given yet something else away.

Jack was now more convinced than ever that something big was amiss, as Ianto continued to prove with his lack of composure just how troubled he was.

The young man opened his mouth to say something, but evidentially decided against it and instead turned away to resume his walk home.

"Ianto!" Jack called after him.

"It's got nothing to do with you, Jack," Ianto said. "Just leave it."

"Bullshit," Jack muttered to himself, watching as Ianto vanished into the night without looking back once.

He stood outside the pub for a while longer, staring down the empty street, before finally heading in the opposite direction. As he walked, he mulled over what his next course of action would be. He knew continuing to pursue the matter would anger the reticent young man further, but he knew deep down he had no real choice; not if he wanted to make sure Ianto was truly safe.


	11. Chapter 11: Tuesday

Early the next morning, the previous few days of cold but clear weather came to an abrupt end. Dark ominous clouds rolled in and rain began to fall with such ferocity that deep puddles formed swiftly upon the ground and anyone who dared step outside were soaked within seconds.

Ianto woke to the sound of his window rattling in its frame and lay there for a long moment, staring up at the ceiling and listening to the rain battering loudly against the glass.

He had returned home past midnight and gone straight to bed, where he'd proceeded to toss and turn his way through the next few hours, his mind refusing to settle. When he'd finally drifted off, his sleep had been disturbed by dreams of Alex moving behind him, stiff cock sliding through his bound hands, rough fingers clenched mercilessly hard about his own aching shaft.

At least he assumed it was Alex. He never actually saw the man's face, nor heard him speak, but the only other possibility was not one Ianto dared seriously consider.

The Welshman rolled his head to the side, glancing at the clock beside his bed. It read 04:42 and Ianto sighed, knowing he wouldn't be able to fall sleep again before the alarm went off at six, even though he desperately needed the rest. Deciding to give in gracefully, he climbed out of bed and wandered wearily to the kitchen, seeking his first, and definitely needed, caffeine hit of the day.

Leaning heavily against the worktop as he waited for the machine to finish brewing, Ianto idly scanned the small room with heavy eyes. His gaze fell upon the pile of items he'd dumped out of his pockets the night before, including the tarot card the little girl had given him. He reached over and snagged one worn corner, sliding it out from under his keys towards him.

The Emperor. He frowned at the picture of a regal figure seated upon a throne, tired mind automatically running through all the possible interpretations of the card. Of course it was all moot, no matter what it was supposed to mean, seeing as how he didn't believe in tarot reading. Just like he didn't believe in palmistry, tea leaves, Ouija boards or astrology. He didn't know how Jack could put so much faith in the little girl's words about Gwen; although if she had rightly informed him of certain things in the past, he could understand the immortal's willingness to believe her. Of course that didn't mean she'd found out that information from the _cards_, just that she happened to know the answer to his questions.

Ianto dropped the card onto the counter and reached for his mobile instead, switching it on immediately when he saw it was turned off. A few seconds later it beeped angrily at him, reporting that he had five missed calls and two messages, all from Alex's number. He sighed and reluctantly dialled up his voice mail, listening as a bored mechanical voice told him that the first message had been left at ten to twelve the night before. Then Alex's voice took over.

"Ianto, call me back right now!"

The young man's eyes rounded at the stern tone and he barely registered the generated voice announcing the time of the next recording – twenty minutes after the first – before Alex spoke again. This time his voice was so different that Ianto's eyes widened even further.

"Ianto? Hi, it's Alex. Is everything okay? You hung up pretty abruptly and now your phone's off...are you all right?" There was a pause then, "Okay, uh, call me back when you can, yeah? Bye."

"Huh," Ianto exclaimed, deleting both messages to appease his innate discretion. He stared at the screen, trying to make sense of the two extraordinarily dissimilar recordings. It _had_ been rather rude of him to hang up on the other man without warning, so perhaps it was understandable that Alex had been first annoyed and then concerned.

Ianto shook his head and abandoned his phone in favour of his espresso. How, in his search to regain his control, could he continually come across situations that robbed him more than ever of that precise abstraction?

* * *

"Tarot?"

Ianto jumped and glanced up sharply to find Tosh peering over his shoulder at his monitor. He bit back a curse as embarrassment warmed his cheeks.

"Why are you looking at things on _tarot_?" Tosh went on, her nose crinkling in disapproval.

"Research," Ianto replied automatically, wishing he'd given it more thought before opening up the database where everyone else could see what he was doing.

He hadn't intended to start looking at such information, but the strange little girl's words had been troubling him all day. As he'd left home that morning, he'd absently slipped the card into the inner pocket of his suit jacket, where it had proceeded to weigh heavily against his chest until he could stand it no longer.

So far he'd made it through the first six cards the girl had drawn, attempting to understand their meanings and connect them as she had done the night before. What she'd said about searching for something – and not Gwen's cure apparently – continued to circle his mind like a hungry vulture. For all his cynicism, it was as though he wanted to find the same link she had, to learn precisely what he sought and why he was supposedly doing it wrong.

If, however, there was an answer to be found there, especially in the second trio which had seemed to suggest the resolution to his search, Ianto could not put anything viable together from the vague descriptions in the database. He had no idea where the element of time had come from, there not being a card to specifically represent it, and that fact had only served to fuel his belief that this was a fruitless effort.

And yet, despite wanting to stop, he had still brought up the details on one more card.

"Research for what?" Tosh asked, turning to look at him now, openly curious at the unusual subject.

Mind finally snapping into gear, Ianto waved a casual hand at some paperwork beside his elbow. "I found an old report about a particularly accurate tarot-reader and couldn't decide whether to file it under 'scam' or 'divination'. Thought it best if I brush up on the subject instead of just guessing."

Tosh gave him a look that he chose to read as amusement, rather than ridicule, over his anal tendencies. "That makes sense," she said, biting her lip. "Yes, perfect sense."

Ianto nodded solemnly, before forcing a smile onto his own lips. "Nah, I'm kidding, it's going straight in the scam drawer. I'm just fascinated that people could fall for this kind of thing."

Tosh looked mildly relieved at that and chuckled warmly. "It is strange, in an era of so many scientific and technological advancements, that people are so willing to believe in something that lacks any substantial evidence of its accuracy."

"Yeah," Ianto said, feeling foolish for letting the girl's statements get to him. He knew Tosh was right, knew that she echoed his own views, but still his eyes were drawn back to the information upon the screen. "Anyway..." he trailed off and, as he knew would happen, Tosh immediately picked up on the subtle dismissal.

"Oh, right, I'll let you get on then," she said awkwardly, a little taken aback that Ianto would bring an interesting debate to such an abrupt end.

He winced but knew he couldn't hold his casual tone for much longer. "Sorry, Tosh, I've got more files to sort after this one," he told her, hoping to undo a little of the offence he'd given. It really wasn't fair of him to be so curt when she was still worried about the team's rocky situation.

"No no, it's fine." Tosh lifted a hand to stop any further apology. "I understand. I should be getting back to work anyway." She smiled and hurried off, leaving Ianto rubbing his temples as guilt began to set in. There was a time when he would have handled a situation as simple as that a hell of a lot better and he was truly beginning to miss that ability.

Sighing, he turned back to the monitor and stared at the old woodcut image that didn't quite match, but was very close to, the picture card still tucked inside his jacket.

The Emperor.

He'd assumed it would just mean power or authority, but whilst those words did feature in the list of interpretations, there was another line that caught Ianto's eye and which sent a cold shiver along his spine.

_The need to control one's surroundings._

Laying a hand on his chest, above the inner pocket and its contents, Ianto swallowed and reread the entire page, searching for something else that his mind could latch upon, but there was nothing.

His fingers began to clench into a fist, closing around the edges of the card beneath the material of his jacket. He attempted to reason with himself, picking out the fact that he didn't want to control his _surroundings _exactly, just his own emotions, but he couldn't shake the words, couldn't stop them from repeating in his mind, over and over.

How had she known? Ianto stood, full of anxious energy. Could she see the battle raging within him? The struggle just to hold himself together? He paced a few steps from the workstation and then back again, gaze returning to that suggestive line once again. No, no, she must have simply handed him a random card in order to confuse him.

He strode away again, the tension in his shoulders steadily growing. Jack was already suspicious; what if he also thought to look at the meaning of the Emperor card? Would he pick up on that particular definition as well?

In reflex, Ianto glanced across to Jack's office and...

...stopped dead.

Jack was at the window, staring right back at him.

A gasp caught in Ianto's throat and he swallowed it down again, frantically urging his brow to smooth and his eyes to resume blinking. All the while Jack watched him, his own features set in a deceptively calm expression that Ianto knew far too well.

_Bugger._

* * *

Ianto had been standing beside the five-foot high glass tank for the best part of a half-hour with a clipboard in his hand detailing all the various schematics for the sturdy container. He had yet to glance at either of them for more than a few minutes each.

He'd come down into the lower levels under the pretence of setting up a better home for the alien slugs, but the moment he'd found himself alone with his own thoughts, he had been completely unable to concentrate on his work.

Sighing, he made another half-hearted attempt to lift his clipboard and resume working, but his arm immediately dropped to his side again as though made of lead. He was seriously considering going back upstairs and trying to find a better distraction by provoking Owen into an argument, or maybe teasing Jack and then reminding him of the not-during-work-hours rule.

Ianto almost snorted in amusement at the way his mind betrayed him so frequently these days; now it was suggesting he go seduce Jack when he was trying to _avoid_ him.

"I haven't been down here in years," a voice broke suddenly through the silence, causing Ianto to almost jump out of his skin.

"Jack!" he exclaimed as he span around, alarmed that the other man would turn up at that precise moment, as though drawn by his thoughts.

The Captain merely grinned in response, looking up at the dirty Victorian brickwork arching overhead in the narrow but tall room.

Ianto fought to regain some composure, fearing his heart would burst from his ribs the way it was pounding now. He lifted the clipboard and focused on the tank's specifications, praying for a way out of this situation. He really didn't feel capable of handling Jack right then if he started demanding answers again, but he couldn't very well leave moments after the Captain had arrived.

"Cosy though," Jack was saying. "If you like the whole dank and cobwebby scene."

Ianto was unable to stop himself from smiling, warmed by the other's jesting in spite of himself. "I must have missed this room during Spring cleaning," he said, leaping upon the safe topic. "But then there isn't anything down here, except this thing." He nodded at the tank and then waved his clipboard at Jack. "I can't find out why this was built, but I know it was never used. Another one of Torchwood's mysteries, I suppose."

Jack frowned at the tank. "I think it was from when we had some sightings of mysterious shapes out in the bay during the nineties. Alex had a larger one built somewhere else down here to contain whatever we found, whilst this one was to be used to study them. Course it never amounted to anything so we didn't get to fill our new aquarium with..." he trailed off, and Ianto guessed Jack had belatedly noticed him tensing at the name just mentioned.

It took only another second for the connection to catch up with the Captain and his expression darkened, mood souring instantly. Ianto winced and turned back to the tank. "Well, at least it'll get some use now, I suppose," he said weakly.

There was a long silence, then: "So," Jack began, faux casually, "I was wondering if you'd changed your mind?"

_Uh oh._ "About what?"

"About telling me what the problem is."

Ianto held back a sigh. It was becoming more and more apparent that Jack wasn't even going to consider letting the matter drop. "Jack," he wearily said. "Why can't you believe me when I say it isn't anything to be concerned about?"

"Because it clearly isn't," Jack countered, stepping forward so he could see Ianto's profile. "I don't care how many times you say it's nothing, I know it isn't. You haven't been yourself for months now and whilst I understand you withdrawing a bit after the incident with Lurrelia, I can tell this goes deeper."

Ianto cast him a sidelong glance. "So being used like a puppet by an alien being isn't enough for me to be a little quiet now and then?"

"If it were only being a little quiet then I wouldn't be worried." Jack inched closer, eyes studying the other's features closely. "But it's more than that. You're distracted, you disappear for hours at a time-"

"I spend almost as much time here as you do," Ianto interrupted. "I think I've earned the right to occasionally step outside once in a while."

"And visit with someone who hurts you?"

Ianto's eyes widened. For one fearful moment he was sure Jack had learned of Alex's profession, but the logical part of his mind stepped in before he could give anything away and reminded him that Jack knew only of the scratches on his chest and nothing more. "It was an accident," he said quietly, deciding to stick with his story.

"So you say."

Ianto did sigh now; this really was getting old. He set his clipboard down on top of the tank and turned fully to Jack. "Do you trust me?"

A muscle twitched in Jack's jaw but he replied, "Yes, I do."

"Then perhaps you could prove it by letting this drop."

The Welshman could see the conflict in Jack's mind over his request. "I've seen you like this before," the older man started slowly, choosing his words with care. "When you had a secret so dark that it almost consumed you. When you didn't know that you had friends you could turn to for help."

Ianto's lips pressed into a thin line. "Lisa." Jack didn't need to say anything, Ianto already knew he was right. What better ammo could Jack use against him than Lisa? "So you _don't_ trust me then."

"I do," Jack assured him.

"Only you think...what? That I've got another half-converted girlfriend stashed away somewhere? Maybe up in the attic this time?"

"Ianto..."

"No, I'm serious," the young man said, growing more irate by the minute. What more did he need to do to make amends for that incident? "What exactly do you think I've done this time?"

"Ianto!" Jack barked, his eyebrows drawing together into a scowl. "I _do _trust you. I know you wouldn't do anything to endanger anyone else, not after last time." He sounded sincere and Ianto dearly wanted to believe him. "But even if I don't have to worry about what you do, that isn't going to stop me from worrying about _you_."

"Even when I say there's nothing to worry about?"

"Even then," the Captain said, holding his gaze intently.

Ianto felt his anger start to waver in light of Jack's concern. There was no way he could admit what he'd been paying Alex to do to him, but he supposed resenting Jack for simply caring about his well-being was perhaps a little unfair.

He sighed again and stepped forward, catching Jack's lips in a kiss that the older man hadn't been expecting, a kiss Ianto hoped would tell his lover that, whilst he might not like Jack's badgering, he'd try not to hold it against him.

Jack's surprise was evident, as he didn't respond straight away, but it wasn't long before his lips parted and he welcomed Ianto's tongue into his mouth. Ianto pushed in to taste the immortal, letting his actions speak where his words might fail.

Hands slid beneath Ianto's jacket, stroking his sides through his shirt and then reaching around to his back, pulling him closer to the other man's body. He smiled against Jack's lips, enjoying the warmth and strength of the arms that held him.

"Ianto," Jack said, leaning back slightly and then tilting his head as Ianto moved on to nibble at his jaw. "This isn't going to work."

"Hmm?" Ianto responded. He curled his fingers around Jack's braces, inching them off his shoulders.

"You're trying to distract me, but it isn't going to work."

Ianto ran a hand down to cup Jack's groin. "Of course it isn't," he agreed, lightly squeezing the flesh that he knew would soon contradict the Captain's words.

Jack took hold of Ianto's shoulders and pushed him back against the tank. "I'm still waiting for an answer."

"You might be waiting a while," Ianto said, licking his lips. He could see the frustration building in Jack's eyes, could feel it in the fingers digging into his arms. The older man was pinning him in place with strong determination and Ianto had no hope of breaking away. He shuddered, something growing inside him at the command Jack now held over his body, something he couldn't let take root, lest it overwhelm him entirely.

Something he didn't seem to be fighting very hard against, despite that fact.

"I don't have to, you know," Jack was saying and Ianto dragged his eyes away from the muscles he could see bunching beneath the other's shirt.

"What?" he asked dumbly.

"I could just go find out myself."

"What?" Ianto repeated.

"It's so easy to find someone these days, y'know. Even with just a first name..."

Ianto stared at him, eyes round with horror. "You wouldn't."

One of Jack's eyebrows lifted in silent challenge.

"No." Ianto shook his head. "No. You'd be invading my privacy."

"I've done worse," the immortal countered with a shrug. "What's a bit of snooping compared to everything else I'm responsible for?"

"Jack," Ianto said, his tone both warning and fearful. He couldn't let Jack find out about Alex. About what he'd been doing. "Promise you won't."

"Are you going to explain then?"

Ianto hesitated. There was no escaping it, he'd have to lie, but what lie would be sufficient to satisfy Jack's curiosity and yet not cause any troublesome consequences? He'd already insisted that he wasn't seeing Alex, that he wasn't sleeping with him, but Jack hadn't entirely believed him then either.

Perhaps that was the answer. "Okay," he said quietly.

"Okay," Jack echoed, loosening his grip and stepping away.

Ianto mourned the loss of contact; it was somehow easier to be forced into talking when the pressure was physical. "You were right," he admitted. "I lied." He looked away and self-consciously lifted a hand to his chest, resting it over one set of scratches. "I did sleep with him."

Jack's face was a perfectly impassive mask, though his eyes seemed to flash a little. "Right," he said tightly. Then he coaxed a weak grin onto his face. "Well, that's fine. Like I said, you're free to do whoever you want."

The words felt like a blade in Ianto's chest, in spite of their truth. It was one thing to be in a purely physical relationship, but it was quite another to be told by your lover to go fuck anyone you fancied.

At least it was when there was some major denial going on in your mind about being content with that 'purely physical' relationship...

Something in Ianto's tumultuous thoughts must have shown across in his expression, because Jack was suddenly frowning at him. "Look, I may have overreacted a bit, read too much into everything, and I'm sorry, but I didn't mean to make you feel uncomfortable about telling me you're seeing someone else."

"I'm not _seeing_ him," Ianto instantly argued, the protest leaping from his lips before he could stop it. "And anyway," he pushed on, apparently out of control of his own mouth now, "I didn't mean for it to happen."

Jack cocked his head at him. "Oh? So why did it then?"

Ianto stared at the older man, completely baffled by his interest. He didn't want to know anything about Jack's past – or present – conquests, so why did Jack want to know about Ianto's?

"Because I let it," he answered. His eyes slid away from Jack's in shame, embarrassed to recall being sprawled over Alex's lap and spanked like a child whilst he did nothing to fight it.

Jack took a step forward and when Ianto automatically glanced at him, he saw suspicion creeping across the immortal's face. "Did..." Jack broke off, as though afraid of the words he wanted to say. "Did you want it to happen?" he asked carefully.

Ianto almost laughed. Jack had hit the nail on the head, but how could Ianto explain that had been the _point?_ That he _hadn't_ wanted to be humiliated and taken advantage of, and yet it had given him the precise sensation of freedom that he paid Alex to attain for him.

He did laugh then, realising fully the twisted nature of his perversion, but the sound came out weak and pained.

Jack was staring at him, rage spreading across his face as he took Ianto's response for an affirmative. His jaw clenched with resolve and he turned away, striding halfway to the door before Ianto realised what he was doing.

"Wait, Jack, don't!" he called out, hurrying after him.

The Captain shook his head and didn't stop.

"Jack!" Ianto said, slipping past to block the older man's way. "Don't," he repeated. "Don't you dare."

Jack shoved him aside and continued to stalk through the hallways that led back up towards the surface.

"I mean it, Jack," Ianto told him, still on his heels. "It was nothing. He didn't force me. I didn't go looking for it, but I wasn't forced either. It just happened, okay?"

That finally brought Jack to a halt. He peered into Ianto's eyes, searching for evidence that his words were true, and Ianto stared right back, determined not to cower beneath that murderous gaze. He might not have asked Alex to introduce a sexual element to their arrangement, but he hadn't stopped him, hadn't used the safeword that would have brought everything to an immediate halt.

And he certainly wasn't about to set his curiously angry lover on someone who had only been doing his job.

As the silent battle passed between the two men, a tiny voice piped up in the back of Ianto's head.

_He's__ jealous,_ it whispered and Ianto mentally scoffed at the idea. _No_, he corrected, _he's possessive_. This was clearly some base desire to have Ianto to himself, to have the young man at his beck and call and have no one else exert the same control over him.

He shivered with emotion as he considered that idea, the dark hidden need rearing its head and Ianto realised just how dangerously close his two worlds were coming. He couldn't allow himself to connect them, couldn't bring the truth of his urges to Jack's door, because he feared he knew what would happen next.

And he couldn't let that happen. For his own sanity, he _couldn't._

"He didn't ra-"

"No!" Ianto exclaimed impatiently. "And if you trusted me at all you'd take my word for it!"

Jack fell silent again, still staring deep into Ianto's eyes, but at length his body began to relax, little by little, his fury dissipating until he released a deep breath and the scowl lifted slightly from his brow.

"I trust you," he said eventually, though the slow pace of his words told Ianto there was more to come. "I trust you with everything except yourself."


	12. Chapter 12

A/N: Omg, how has it been so long since I posted?! Sorry! I hope this chapter is worth the unintentional wait!

* * *

The deluge of rain had not decreased at all since morning, leaving the outside world waterlogged and grey. Ianto failed to notice this, however, as he drove through the slick roads of the city: so focused was he in escaping the oppressiveness of the Hub that his usual instinct to be aware of his surroundings failed him completely.

The argument with Jack had left him knotted inside, his stomach clenching until he felt physically sick. It disturbed him to hear words of distrust from someone who played so large a role in his life and yet worse still to hear they applied not to his work or his treatment of others, but to the manner in which he lived that life.

Ianto had found his control stretched to the limit as he resisted the urge to rage at the older man. It would have served only to give Jack even more reason to doubt him and Ianto really didn't want to provide any further ammunition so freely. He'd managed to hold his tongue long enough to get out of the base, but as he'd climbed into his car, all the stress and emotional anguish of the incident clamped down upon him.

He was driving before even realising that he'd switched on the engine, and when he pulled into the small private parking lot, he wasn't at all surprised at his location.

Ianto locked up and headed for the apartment building, his thoughts upon the voice mail left for him in the early hours of that morning. There had been such worry in Alex's voice over Ianto's well-being, and he couldn't help but feel warm at the memory of that unexpected concern.

He hadn't returned the call, hadn't given it any thought before now, and as a result he felt guilty for being so rude. The fact, however, that it would have been easier to simply pick up the phone than come all this way didn't even register in his mind, as he reached the door and pressed one of the many buttons there.

There came no answer and after a moment he pushed it again to no avail. He shifted his feet, feeling uncomfortable lingering outside the building and pressed the button once more, holding it down impatiently. Still no answer. He looked around, knowing he should give up and leave but hesitant to do so, when suddenly he saw someone else making their way through the lobby towards the entrance. As the woman emerged, he stepped aside to let her pass and then caught the door before it could shut again, slipping though quickly in case she queried his right to go inside.

Upstairs, Ianto knocked loudly on Alex's door, feeling more and more restless, the question of what he was doing there finally edging towards his conscious thoughts. He didn't want to think about the motives which had brought him to that place, didn't want to consider how he was seeking someone who had expressed concern for him when he'd only just walked out on Jack for doing the exact same thing.

He knocked again and the door was yanked open to reveal a scowling man.

"What?!" Alex demanded, only for his expression to relax the moment he saw who stood before him. "Ianto," he said, his tone instantly warm and low. "What are you doing here? I'm just about to start a session."

Ianto blinked, the thought having never occurred to him and he glanced automatically into the room behind the other man. He couldn't see anyone else inside, but apparently just looking was enough for Alex's professionalism to kick in and he stepped out into the hallway, pulling the door shut as he did so.

"Is something the matter? Why are you here?"

"I, uh..." Ianto frowned. What _was_ he doing there?

"Another bad day?" Alex asked, a wry smile twisting his lips upwards.

"Yes," admitted Ianto, looking away in embarrassment. He realised with a start just how many times he'd seen Alex lately. How had things gotten so out of hand; how had he lost so much control over himself?

He was too logical not to realise where this need of his had stemmed from. Being used by an alien, being psychically forced to betray himself and his friends was a serious blow to his inherent self-restraint and this was the manner with which he'd chosen to reclaim that control. But the recent escalation, the increase in his hunger, that was something he could not account for.

Or rather the reason for it was not something he could admit to himself.

"Did you have a fight with Owen?" Alex asked, interrupting his vexing thoughts.

Ianto only just stopped himself from asking why a fight with _Owen_ would have brought him there; the recollection of his lie about Jack's name emerging just in time to save further confusion.

"You didn't even call to ask if you could come over," Alex was saying, not waiting for an answer. "So something serious must have happened."

The younger man shrugged, still troubled by the fact he had hurried there without any true consideration of what he was doing. What had he hoped to achieve? Another quick session in the playroom to calm his rage and then back to work like nothing had happened? Or perhaps another of the _new_ kind of sessions, the ones that took place in Alex's bedroom...was that what he'd come looking for?

Alex stepped closer and lifted a hand to cup Ianto's cheek. He peered into his eyes, the dark orbs piercing, seeing into his very soul. "You're too good for him," the older Welshman murmured. "He doesn't know what he's got in you."

Ianto blinked, the words taking him by surprise. "What?" he asked. Where had that come from? Alex didn't know anything about Jack and yet here he was judging the immortal Captain.

But Alex didn't reply verbally, instead he leaned forward and caught Ianto's lips in a hard kiss. Ianto grunted a protest but couldn't break away from the larger man and found himself crowded back against the far wall of the hallway.

Alex's tongue forced his lips apart, delving in to explore his mouth with such greedy power that Ianto couldn't help but respond, opening his lips wider as his pulse began to race and air became harder to drag into his lungs. Kissing this man in such a manner was definitely something new, and yet the force with which Alex was claiming his mouth almost managed to obliterate the tiny voice in Ianto's mind attempting to protest this development.

Almost, but not quite. _How?_ it asked, _h__ow had a specifically non-sexual arrangement turned into spanking, then into hand-jobs, and now toe-curling kisses?_

Ianto made a shamefully weak keening noise at the conflict between his common sense and the way this man was dominating him. He hadn't wanted to link his need for pain and submission to sex, but he was letting it happen for a second time without complaint.

"Inside," Alex said in a commanding voice, stepping back but pulling on Ianto's arm so as not to break the contact between their bodies.

Ianto's mind swirled, head dizzy with confusion and need. "But..." he stuttered, "...your client..."

"Fuck," growled Alex, before shrugging carelessly. "Oh well, can't be helped." He reached behind him and opened the door, dragging Ianto with him. "You're more important."

Inside the apartment, Alex finally turned away, though he still did not let go. "Sorry, Mr. Smith," he said, sounding not the least bit apologetic, "I'm going to have to cancel your session today. Bit of an emergency, you see."

The dour-looking man sat on one of the sofas glanced between them with suspicion in his narrowed eyes. "Doesn't look like an emergency to me," he said, unimpressed. "Looks like you intend to get laid when you should be doing what I'm paying you do."

Alex was entirely unperturbed by the accusation. He shrugged again and reached into the pocket of his jeans to pull out a thick handful of neatly folded twenty pound notes. "I'll give you a full refund, of course," he replied smoothly. "But I'm afraid you'll have to leave."

Mr 'Smith' glared at Ianto, but said nothing more as he rose to his feet, snatched back his money and disappeared out the door. Ianto watched him go, the man's words echoing in his mind.

_Looks like you intend to get laid_...

He grimaced, pulling away from the older Welshman slightly. Hearing it spoken aloud made it clear just how wrong this was.

"You told me you didn't offer any 'personal'services," he said quietly, not looking at Alex.

"That's right." Ianto's chin was grasped and his head turned towards the other man. "I don't take money for sex and I don't have sex with clients."

Ianto relaxed almost immediately; hearing that clarification made him feel like he was finally back on solid ground. At the beginning, when they'd established the rules, Ianto had been more than capable of handling this secret of his, but Alex's recent behaviour had knocked him off balance, pushing his control to the limits of tolerance.

It was reassuring to know that, although Alex might be expanding their sessions in certain directions – like _spanking_ of all things – the line that Ianto was unwilling to cross still stood firmly in place.

"But you're not a client anymore."

The words crashed against Ianto's relief like a blunt axe. He stared at Alex with wide eyes, his lips open but unable to form the words of bewilderment clamouring for attention in his mind. So much for feeling like he had a grasp on the situation.

Alex laughed at his expression. "You're a smart man, Ianto, but I think sometimes you purposefully ignore what is right before you. Didn't you realise the moment I took you into my bedroom that things were different? That the rules were changing?"

"I-I don't understand," Ianto confessed.

"I know you were afraid to ask for what you really needed," Alex said, "which is my own fault because I told you I didn't provide anything sexual for money. But now that I've seen how beautifully you respond, how you revel in the pain and submit so willingly, I know we could have so much more together." Alex smiled at him and Ianto was surprised to see fondness in his dark eyes. "You're so attuned to your need, more than anyone else I've ever worked on. You seem to have such intensity within you and if we could only draw it out fully..." He trailed off, eyes sparkling with anticipation.

"But..." Ianto started to protest, though he hadn't yet figured out _what_ needed protesting.

"You liked what happened the other night, didn't you? It gave you the release you've been seeking all along, the complete surrender to another person." Alex was still smiling, the happiness clear in his entire being. "It's okay to want that, you know. If you keep such a tight reign over yourself all the time you'll eventually fall apart from the strain. But you _can_ find a balance of the two and I can help you do it. I can provide you with the outlet you need to truly reassert your self-control."

Ianto blinked at him. "But before...my scenario..."

"Wasn't enough," Alex finished for him. "I know this must be difficult for you to take in, Ianto, but it _is_ what you need. Your body knows that, even though your mind may still hesitate." He took a step forward and ran a finger along Ianto's jawline.

The young man shuddered at the light touch, his eyes unwillingly sliding shut. "You really do want to sleep with me," he said quietly, the words emerging without any true strength behind them.

Warm breath ghosted over his face as Alex moved even closer. "You've practically been begging me to take you for the past week," he murmured, amusement colouring his tone.

Ianto shook his head in denial. "I only wanted the release," he blurted out, feeling distinctly uncomfortable at Alex's insistent tone. "To forget myself for a while. I wasn't looking for another lover."

"Lover?" Alex laughed. "Oh I'm going to be so much more than your lover, Ianto. I'm going to be what you've been looking for all along. I'm going to be your _master_."

Ianto couldn't stop his sharp intake of breath at that declaration. The word 'master' reverberated through his mind, gaining power as the full meaning of the situation finally hit him. "I don't think-"

His words were cut off as Alex pressed himself up against Ianto's body. A hand wrapped around his throat, not squeezing, but merely holding him in silent warning.

"You shouldn't think," Alex rumbled at him in a lust-filled voice. "Thinking made you deny your true needs for so long. Thinking makes you doubt what I'm telling you now, but I'll soon prove it to you. I'll make you see that all you've ever wanted is a master and that master will be me."

Trapped by the older man, Ianto's heart began to race. He knew – couldn't deny it having seen him at work – that Alex was a dangerous man. His extensive knowledge of both weapons and the human body had swung Ianto's mind on choosing Alex to provide him with the pain he needed; he'd wanted someone who could hurt him without leaving too obvious a mark behind and Alex's experience, his _references_, had convinced Ianto that he'd found the right person.

"I don't thi-" Ianto began, but quickly stopped himself from finishing that particular word in case he was silenced again. "That isn't what I want."

Alex laughed, a soft huff of warm air rolling over Ianto's face. He pressed his body harder against the other man, fingers tensing around his throat, just enough to remind him they were there. "You'll learn," he murmured. "You need me; you need what I can offer. You won't deny it for long."

"Stop it," Ianto said, his voice barely a whisper.

Alex laughed again and slid his fingers around to the back of Ianto's neck, tightening his grip and using it to pull the young man into another deep kiss. With his other hand he unbuckled Ianto's belt, drawing it free and then swiftly twisting it around one of Ianto's wrists. By the time he broke the kiss from need of air, Alex had caught Ianto's other wrist and tied it tightly to the first behind his back.

Ianto blinked, then tested the bonds that had been so deftly applied. Alex smiled down at him, returning one hand to Ianto's neck whilst the other slipped within the waistband of his trousers. He cupped Ianto's backside and jerked their hips together. "Are you going to behave or do I have to bind you further?" he murmured.

Ianto's lips parted in a quiet moan at the pressure on his groin and Alex dove in to claim his mouth again, tongue twisting skilfully around Ianto's until he began to return the kiss. Alex pulled away almost immediately and replaced his lips with two fingers. Ianto sucked on them greedily, his senses bombarded by the hand gripping his buttock, the ache of his trapped arms and the hardness grinding against his crotch.

The fingers soon vanished from Ianto's mouth to join the other hand down within the confines of his clothing, easing past the material of his trousers and underwear to delve into the cleft of his ass.

"When were you last touched here?" Alex asked in a thick voice, one finger ghosting over Ianto's entrance.

The young Welshman shuddered at the light contact, rocking back as he closed his eyes, lips still parted and wet.

"When did Owen last fuck you?" Alex purred into his ear and Ianto shook his head, biting his tongue to keep from correcting the other man. "If you don't answer me, I'll have to punish you."

Ianto jerked as a damp fingertip slipped into his hole. He contorted, trying to escape the touch and succeeding only in pushing against the other man. He felt lips beneath his ear and the playful nip of teeth against the skin there.

"Tell me or I'll leave a mark."

"No," Ianto groaned and the finger pressed further into his body. "Ah! Sunday! It was Sunday!"

Alex licked at Ianto's neck. "Is that so? Did you have an argument then? Is that why you came over here all 'out of sorts', as you put it?"

"It was after," Ianto gasped as Alex pushed in another nearly-dry finger.

The older man paused then leaned back just enough to look at Ianto through narrow eyes, though he continued to hold him firmly in place. "You little slut," he said, lips curving up into a wicked smile. "You went from my bed to his." He parted his fingers, stretching the sphincter muscles wide.

Ianto grunted in pain, trying to ignore the other's words.

"What about today?" Alex was asking. "You're not planning to run back to him again, are you?" He pushed his hips forward, letting Ianto feel the hard bulge in his jeans. His fingers worked deeper into the young man's body whilst Ianto struggled against the pulling ache of the penetration. "Because once I'm through with you, your hole will be so loose he'd know straight away what you've been doing."

Ianto squirmed, troubled by both the promise and the rough treatment. "No," he said weakly. "Don't."

"Don't what? Don't do this?" The fingers opened again and Ianto's entire body jolted in response. "I'll do whatever I want." He pressed his lips to Ianto's neck and began to suck in earnest.

"A-Alex!" Ianto protested, trying to pull away. "Stop!" If Alex kept on sucking at his skin, Ianto was going to be sported a large bruise above the collar of his shirt, right where he would be unable to hide it. He attempted to dislodge the older Welshman, only to be squeezed tighter by the arms holding him.

Another finger joined the pair already stretching him wide, distracting Ianto momentarily from the suction on his neck. He squirmed uncomfortably and then regained his composure. "No marks!" he yelped, but the other man showed no sign of obeying, or even of having heard him. Ianto groaned, his body reacting strongly to the stimulation and he struggled not to simply give in and let it happen. "Please, no...NO!"

A loud crash suddenly filled the air and Ianto jerked away from Alex, knowing without having to look that it was Jack who had just burst through the door. He was yanked back again by the hand still clamped around his buttock.

The fingers in Ianto's ass were withdrawn as Alex turned to confront the fuming man who had just broken into his apartment, but Ianto didn't doubt that Jack had seen precisely what had been going on. He found himself unable to even look in the Captain's direction, shame tensing his captured body. "Let go," he murmured helplessly, though he doubted Alex would listen.

"Get the FUCK off him!" Jack roared, evidentially having recovered from the initial shock and storming towards the two men.

Ianto cringed, again trying to escape Alex's grasp and failing. Alex seemed intent on keeping him in place, even though there was a stranger bearing down upon them with murder in his eyes. "I guess you'd be Owen then," Alex said, impressively calm in light of Jack's fury.

The unexpected statement brought Jack up short, the possibility of him being Owen so abstract that it actually pushed aside his anger for a brief moment. "What?" he asked. "No. Why would I be _Owen_?"

Understanding instantly, Alex turned away from the intruder to look at Ianto, who met his gaze far easier than he met Jack's. "You lied to me," he said, tone light and his eyes full of promise. He gave the young man a knowing smirk. "You'll have to be punished for that."

Jack's fist swung in a wide arc, giving the well-trained Welshman just enough time to move aside so that the punch missed his jaw and instead caught him on the shoulder. Ianto was finally released from Alex's hold, though he could do little with his arms still bound behind his back.

As he stepped away, Ianto thanked whichever deity was listening that Alex had only loosened his clothing; he could imagine just how much more embarrassed he would have been if stood there with his trousers puddled around his ankles.

"Jack, wait," he said, completely failing to project any of his usual confidence into his voice. The blood rushed in his ears as he watched the other two men struggling. He felt impossibly useless when normally he would take such things in his stride. Did he really find Alex's home such a refuge that even now, with Jack's discovery of his secret, he could not take control of himself again?

"You sick bastard," Jack growled, landing a punch to Alex's gut and receiving one instantly in his side.

The large Welshman did not appear greatly troubled by the attack, his close relationship with pain perhaps giving him some rather more receptive feelings towards combat. His expression as he easily countered Jack's strikes was one of fierce enjoyment. "Sick?" he countered. "What's sick about doing an honest day's work?

"You consider _rape_ honest work?!" the Captain roared in furious astonishment.

Alex caught Jack's wrists with surprising ease and brought the fight to a hiatus, though the immortal struggled so much that Ianto was sure it would resume before long. Alex glanced across at Ianto. "You told him I raped you?"

Ianto shook his head. "No."

"He didn't have to," Jack declared, glaring at the man gripping his arms. "I saw what you did to him. I heard him just now, begging you to stop."

"Well, yes, but you know he didn't mean it, right?" Alex looked to Ianto again, something akin to amusement in his eyes.

"Oh really? And here I thought no meant _no_," Jack sarcastically retorted.

Alex laughed and Ianto fancied he could see the moment the pieces slotted together in his mind. "He has a _safe__word,_ you fucking idiot. If he'd really wanted me to stop he would have used it."

Jack froze, no longer even attempting to get free of Alex's grasp. "What?" He turned for the first time to look at Ianto, as though only just remembering he was in the room as well.

"Not to mention this is what he pays me for. It would be kinda stupid for me to stop now, wouldn't it?"

"Ianto..."

There was both alarm and disappointment in Jack's eyes and Ianto turned away, unable to bear the weight of that gaze upon him. And yet, though all of Ianto's fears came to a head with Jack's discovery, that look of bewilderment had at the very least served to snap him from the numbness that had kept him frozen in place. "Untie me," he said, his voice once again perfectly even and firm.

Jack made no move at all, but Alex clearly recognised the change in his bearing to mean that Ianto was back in command of himself. He released Jack's arms and stepped over to free the young man.

Ianto took back his belt and slid it through the loops on his trousers in silence. He avoided Alex's gaze as well as Jack's, feeling uncomfortable not only because his lover had caught them, but also because of what the other Welshman had started before Jack had burst in.

And even more so because Ianto had been about to submit entirely; allowing Alex to take their business arrangement to a completely different and inappropriate level.

* * *

Jack couldn't tear his eyes away from Ianto as the young man calmly fastened his belt and adjusted his suit as though nothing untoward had happened. He simply couldn't get his head around what he'd just discovered, it being so far from what he'd guessed that it didn't seem at all possible. Ianto was _paying _this man for...for what?! After what the big Welshman had just said about Ianto's safeword, Jack couldn't even be sure what he'd actually walked in on.

"Thank you," Ianto said politely, glancing at Alex before taking a step away from him. "You'll send me the bill for the door, yes?"

Alex nodded and glanced at Jack. The Captain couldn't give a damn about the other man's broken door; what annoyed him more was that the accusatory glare was clearly not for the splintered wood, but rather for the interruption of the bastard's plans for Ianto.

Whilst the two stared each other down, Ianto swept past Jack, heading for the hallway without another word. Alex moved forward a few steps as well, a smirk twisting his lips now that Ianto's back was turned. It was obvious he thought he'd won a battle that Jack hadn't even been aware existed.

The helplessness he felt caused a surge of fury to wash through Jack's body and he closed the gap between them, swinging his fist again and punching the man fully in the face at last. Anger lent him strength, and where he had been holding back before he had no such qualms this time. The Welshman dropped to the floor, his complacency working against him.

Jack reached down before Alex could react and grabbed the collar of his t-shirt. He hauled the large man halfway to his feet, only to punch him again, causing his head to snap violently backwards. Blood poured from Alex's nose and Jack lifted his hand once more, but his arm was caught in a vice-like grip before he could bring it down.

"That's enough," Ianto said quietly.

Jack looked from the hand on his arm to the other man's blank face. "Like hell it is."

"This has nothing to do with him." Ianto pressed on his arm. "Put him down," he insisted in a cold voice.

Alex fell to the floor with a thud and a groan as Jack opened his hand, not caring at all that he'd been the only thing holding the dazed Welshman up.

Jack turned to stare at his lover, hands balled into fists at his sides. "Ianto..." he said, then stopped, lost for words.

Ianto glanced down at the bleeding man on the floor, brow creased in thought. Jack could tell he was running through the choices for his next action; did he help clean Alex up, did he make Jack do it, or did he walk away before anything worse happened...?

"Let's go," Ianto said firmly, apparently having chosen the latter option, and then turned away before Jack had a chance to respond.


	13. Chapter 13

A/N: Woo, the confrontation! I've been looking forward to this one - not sure why, I think I must like making the boys argue, it leads to thoughts of angry sex. Not that there's any in this chapter. Aww :(

* * *

Jack tailgated Ianto's car all the way back to the Hub, following closely to make sure he didn't run away. He doubted Ianto _would_ try to flee, he really wasn't the type, but Jack wasn't willing to take any chances. He wanted this problem sorted immediately, without any more distractions.

They parked in adjacent spaces in the underground car park and walked over to one of the lesser-used entrances to the Hub. Ianto looked around, checking there was no one nearby to spot them passing through the unmarked door, but Jack simply strode forward, too preoccupied by what he had just discovered to worry about witnesses.

He said nothing to the other man as they made their way through narrow corridors to the centre of the Hub, didn't even look at him directly, though he was conscious enough of Ianto's presence to know that he still followed. Once they reached the large open area, Jack continued on towards his office, ignoring Owen and Tosh in his determined state.

The briefest hesitation in Ianto's footsteps alerted Jack to an impending attempt to veer away and he scowled back over his shoulder at the young Welshman, silently informing him that he wasn't dismissed yet. Ianto's expression remained blank as he fell back into step with the Captain.

As they passed Tosh, she gave them a slightly panicked look, clearly sensing the tension in the air, but neither man had the energy to reassure her with false platitudes.

Once inside the office, Jack left Ianto to close the door, knowing he wouldn't want the others to hear what they were about to discuss, and moved around to take his seat behind the desk. Ianto followed and sat on the other side, the furniture forming only half of the barrier now present between them.

Jack fixed him with a stern gaze, projecting a far calmer outward appearance than he truly felt.

"So..." he drawled, an edge to his tone, "anything you want to tell me?"

Ianto's eyes flashed and Jack saw his defensive streak kick in. "What would you like me to say, Sir?"

"The truth would be nice, seeing as how you've clearly been lying to me recently. I take it all these trips to the dentist, urgent errands and such haven't been quite what they seem, right?"

"Why did you follow me?" asked Ianto in response.

Jack smiled humourlessly at his aggressive tone. "I knew you were lying about something," Jack answered without any feeling of remorse. "It was necessary."

The younger man folded his arms across his chest. "It was childish."

Jack gave a sharp laugh. "Oh, come _on_," he said in disbelief, "what did you expect? You run out of here right after a conversation like that and you think I'm _not _going to follow you?" He shook his head. "You knew what would happen. Subconsciously perhaps, but you knew."

"You think I wanted you there?" Ianto countered. "That's absurd! I've done a bloody fine job of keeping that part of my life separate so far, why would I just toss it all away now?"

"Ianto, for fuck's sake, you're far too smart not to see that you led me there! You _wanted_ me to find out what you've been doing."

Anger coloured Ianto's view briefly with light, the lamp on the corner of the desk a solar flare of heat and brightness, and beyond that, Jack eyes, piercing in their perception. Fear pushed his heart against his ribcage with violent staccato thumps and air rattled out through his nose until there was nothing left in his lungs.

He blinked but the panic remained.

"Why do you _care_?" he demanded, voice shaky and unsure. "What I do outside the Hub is my own business and you're not supposed to give a damn about it! What about Gwen? Shouldn't you be worrying about her right now? She's dying and you're chasing me around the bloody city, prying into my private life!"

Jack did not rise to meet Ianto's raging. Instead he stared at the flustered man, absorbing the reaction and its various insinuations. "Gwen is safe," he explained calmly. "Her illness won't progress whilst she's in cryo, giving us time to find a solution at a sensible pace. Don't get me wrong, I want her cured as soon as possible, but rushing around now won't do any good at all."

There came no response and Jack went on, hoping to provoke another outburst with his next question. "Or would you prefer I ignore you and sit in the morgue all day, crying 'woe is me' until Owen stumbles over an idea that works?"

Ianto licked his lips and Jack read the answer in the tightening of his features. He wanted to say no; no, he wouldn't prefer Jack a sobbing mess. No, he wouldn't prefer Jack obsessing over Gwen's semi-demise. But he wouldn't say it. Not out loud. Not within Jack's presence.

Ianto looked away, opting to stay silent instead of incriminating himself.

Jack leaned forward, hands flat against the desk. "Okay, here's the deal. Either you tell me what the hell is going on, or I go back to that guy's home and make him tell me instead." Ianto's gaze flicked back quickly and Jack knew the young man could hear the honest threat in his tone. He almost wished Ianto would refuse and give him an excuse to go beat the crap out of that smug bastard, but, as expected, Ianto wasn't about to let another person to suffer for him.

"I'm not sure I can explain it," he said hesitantly, the fight swiftly melting from both body and mind as realisation of his position finally, _finally_, sunk in.

"Try," Jack pleaded, desperate for cooperation. He didn't want to give in and allow Ianto his dangerous secrets, but he didn't want to have to extract the truth in any way other than asking.

Ianto sighed and there was clear resignation in his voice as he began to speak. "It's just something I...need."

"What is? What were you paying him to do?"

Ianto visibly gathered himself and his eyes met Jack's. "To hurt me."

"I don't understand," Jack said, though he had a sinking feeling he could guess.

Ianto smiled grimly. "I guess you were right about me having kinks after all."

Jack couldn't quite process what he was hearing. Of course he was aware of, and had experienced in the past, what Ianto was hinting at, but he would never, _ever,_ have thought the Welshman could possess such a desire. He'd never expressed any kind of preference for rough play over tender and they'd engaged in both variants enough over the past year for Jack to be sure he'd never seen the same light in Ianto's eyes that he'd seen for a spilt-second upon bursting into that apartment.

"You..." he began, not sure what he could say to that. "Wow." He thought about it for another few minutes, unable to completely wrap his head around this dark side to his young lover. "So it's... what? Some kind of rape fantasy?"

Ianto huffed out an exasperated breath. "God, what is it with you and rape? No, I don't want to be raped; it has nothing to do with sex at all."

Jack's memory unhelpfully produced the image of Ianto standing with another man's hands down the back of his trousers. "But you _have_ slept with him, right?"

Ianto's mouth worked briefly before he answered, "No, not exactly."

"Then how, exactly?" Jack pushed, ignoring for now the revelation of yet another lie that Ianto had told him.

Something shifted in Ianto's expression and the professional mask he often wore slipped into place. "He tied me up, spanked me, then got himself off using my bound hands," he said without emotion.

Jack blinked at the crude description, but he knew Ianto was only speaking bluntly to unnerve him.

"Oh, he took care of me too, so don't think badly of him," the other man added casually.

Jack had to bite his tongue to keep his initial response in, then forced himself to calmly say, "That sounds like sex to me."

"Yeah, well, it would, wouldn't it?" retorted Ianto with a roll of his eyes.

"And what I walked in on earlier...what was that then?"

"It isn't about sex!" Ianto repeated in frustration. He leapt to his feet and began to stalk across the office. "Dammit, Jack, don't you get it? It's about control." He lifted his hands and tangled his fingers in his hair. "It helps me regain _control _of myself."

Jack watched him pace. Had it been anyone else but Ianto saying that he might have accepted it. As it was... "Says the most controlled man I've ever met."

It came out slightly harsher that he'd intended and Ianto paused in the middle of the room, his back to the desk and his body tensing defensively. "I think you're giving me too much credit," he bit out.

"And I think you're the one who's always made a show of being in control."

The young man turned, arms dropping back down to his sides, and frowned at Jack, genuinely confused. "When have I made a show of anything?"

The Captain shrugged, dismissing the exaggeration with a wave of his hand and pushing on eagerly now that he had Ianto off-balance. "My point is; how do you suddenly figure you need help regaining control?" Jack rose from his chair. "Did you accidentally put on odd socks one morning and everything's fallen apart since then?"

"You still think I'm lying, don't you?"

"Well I wouldn't be surprised," Jack admitted. "But if you must know, I think you're doing your best to fob me off with the bare minimum of details."

Ianto shook his head helplessly. "People generally don't know the psychological reasons behind their needs."

"People, yes. But you're not people, Ianto." The older man moved around to the front of the desk. "Your brain is far too crammed with information not to be able to give me a proper reason for your behaviour recently."

"And I should tell you because...?"

"Because I'm your boss and what you're doing could endanger Torchwood." He took a step closer and lowered his voice. "Because I'm your lover, your _friend_, and I worry about you."

Ianto's eyes slid shut and he turned his head away as though to deflect the gentle words.

"Ianto," Jack pressed on. "Please."

The young man's shoulders slumped and he sighed in defeat. "Lurrelia," he whispered dejectedly.

"You said you were dealing with it," Jack pointed out with a frown, "but this..."

"She used my body, Jack. She made me do things I would never have done and worst of all, she made it feel like I _wanted_ to do them. Since then, even though I know she's gone, I've felt out of control."

"In what way?"

Ianto grimaced, clearly finding the truth difficult to admit aloud. "Emotionally." His expression twisted into a wry smile. "It used to be so easy to separate things. Now I can't trust myself to get through the day without getting angry or scared or...or jealous or anything!"

Jack studied him sympathetically. For all that Ianto claimed, he had hidden it well, but to actually be voicing it now, and to have been seeking help where he had, Jack knew he was finally hearing the truth. He felt for the young man, even more so now that he knew the incident had struck Ianto even deeper than he'd previously thought.

"Why didn't you tell me?" he asked quietly. At the same time he asked himself why he hadn't seen it. Why he hadn't _allowed_ himself to see it.

"Tell you?" echoed Ianto in amazement, strength returning not only to his tone but his stance as well. "Why would I _tell_ you?"

Jack looked at him, taken off guard by the reaction. "Because we...share..." he replied cautiously.

Ianto gave a bitter laugh. "Only we don't, do we?"

"Don't we?"

Ianto gave him a look that Jack had experienced a number of times in the past few years. It was one that said: 'You know the answer and I'm not going to waste my breath spelling it out for you'.

"You should have told me," Jack said. "I could have helped."

"How?" Ianto snidely asked. "By coming along to hold my hand whilst he whipped me?"

Jack bit the inside of his cheek to keep from snapping back and letting the conversation degrade into a full-blown argument. He had nothing but appreciation for Ianto's sharp tongue, except when it worked against him, and didn't really want to encourage its insertion into the conversation now.

"By giving you what you needed," he replied instead, wisely letting the mention of whipping slide. He gave the younger man a reassuring smile. "I would have understood if you'd just told me what you wanted me to do."

Ianto gaped at him. "You're not serious?"

"Of course I am. It's not like I'd be disgusted by the idea."

"You still don't understand, do you?" Ianto said, incredulity filling his voice.

"Then make me!" Jack demanded in response.

The young man turned away without answering.

"I refuse to let this lie, Ianto," Jack went on. "You're putting us all at risk and I won't allow you to damage Torchwood like this."

"It's got nothing to do with Torchwood," Ianto protested.

"If you're not able to trust your own emotions, then it has everything to do with Torchwood. Your attention is diverted and you've been letting that man do things to you that could compromise you in the field-"

"No," Ianto interrupted firmly, spinning back and slashing a hand through the air to silence him. "No, I made sure from the start that it wouldn't inhibit me in that way. No damage, no lasting marks, that was the deal."

"Listen to yourself," Jack sighed. He leaned back against the desk, weary from the emotional strain of the argument. "You don't see the danger in this at all, do you?"

"It's no different than Owen going out drinking every night." Ianto pulled a face. "When he could, I mean."

"It's nothing like that. This kind of thing...it messes with your head."

"It was _helping_ my bloody head! It was the only thing that worked."

"Did you think to try talking about it?"

Ianto sneered a little at that suggestion and Jack shrugged. He knew the young man wasn't much of a talker, but this was far too serious a situation for his innate quietness to kick in. "You're talking fine right now," Jack pointed out.

Ianto rolled his eyes. "Under duress."

"Just cut the crap, okay?" Jack glared at him and Ianto glared right back, his obstinate nature never more evident. "You're not going to see him again," Jack said abruptly, the need to establish that fact pushing the words from his mouth without any input from his brain.

Which might well have been a mistake, considering the fury that filled Ianto's eyes at his words. "What?" the Welshman said in a tight voice.

"I mean it," Jack ploughed on. "It can't happen again."

Ianto's entire body tensed up. "You can't tell me what to do in my private life."

"I can if it impacts on Torchwood," the Captain informed him. "And if I don't get a promise from you now to stop, then I'll keep you here until I do."

"Keep me prisoner?" One corner of Ianto's lips quirked up in a weak smile. "Then I guess I'll have to promise to behave. Can I go now?"

Jack closed his eyes at the mocking tone. "Why couldn't you just come to me?" he asked again. "At least explain why it had to be some god-damned stranger?"

"That's the point," Ianto replied in exasperation. "Can't you see that? He _is_ a stranger, he's nothing to do with Torchwood. Nothing to do with _you_!"

"Me?" Just when Jack thought the situation couldn't get any more confusing... "Why am I a factor?" he asked, his instincts telling him there was something important behind Ianto's clarification.

Ianto shrugged like a petulant teenager, staring off to the side and avoiding Jack's gaze.

The Captain frowned, suspicion growing that Ianto held him responsible for some part of this. He thought back to the cause of Ianto's failing control, to the alien's psychic inhabitation of his body. "When Lurrelia was in your head, she did something to make it hurt every time I touched you," he said quietly, grasping the faint thread connecting all the elements together. "Do you...do you blame me for that? Is that why you wouldn't trust me with this? I said I was sorry for pushing it when I knew I was hurting you, but you didn't stop me. You _told _me not to stop."

The clenching of Ianto's jaw spoke louder than words. "That isn't the reason."

"Well why else would you go to someone else instead of me?"

Ianto seemed to be fighting an internal battle with himself, his expression twisted and strained.

"Tell me, Ianto," Jack went on, recognising the signs of imminent surrender. "Tell me." He moved nearer to the young man, using his close presence to further push Ianto into relenting.

"What happened back then," Ianto began at last, anguish clear in his voice, "that was...God, I can't even being to explain how fucking _good_ that felt."

Jack froze, the words failing to sink in for a few eternal heartbeats. "What?"

"It was ten times, a _hundred_ times, better than anything I'd ever experienced before!" continued Ianto, animated and yet appearing pained by his own enthusiasm. "I didn't know my body could be made to feel that way and it was because of pain."

Jack was vaguely aware of his mouth hanging open. "What?" he asked again.

"It was good, Jack," Ianto repeated, something akin to pleading in his tone. "You hurt me and I _loved _it."

"You did?" Jack asked obtusely. His eyes fell away from the other man's face and then snapped up again as the astonishment dwindled abruptly. "But if you liked it so much, why go to some fucking sadist instead of me?! You know I would have given you that if you'd asked."

Ianto dropped his gaze to the floor. "Yes," he quietly said. "I know."

"Then why?" Jack demanded, stepping even closer.

"Because I couldn't let _you _be the one to do it."

"Why?" Jack asked again.

"Because it would have meant giving you everything that I am." Ianto's head bowed forward. "You said you didn't trust me with myself...well, I guess I can't trust you with myself either."


	14. Chapter 14

Jack stared dumbly as Ianto turned and left the office, but the minute he was out of sight Jack jolted back into action and hurried after him.

"Hey!" he called from the doorway.

Ianto waved a dismissive hand and continued to walk.

"Dammit, Ianto, we're not done yet!"

The Welshman stopped, his head dipping slightly before he glanced over his shoulder. "I have nothing else to say."

"Oh really?" countered Jack fiercely. He was vaguely aware of Tosh slowly spinning her chair around to face them, but ignored her attention. "Because I don't think you said _nearly _enough just now."

Ianto stared at him coolly and said nothing.

"You can't just tell me something like that then walk away," Jack went on, his confusion making him angry. "Don't I deserve an explanation?"

"You want to have this conversation now?" Ianto asked in a flat tone, just as Owen stomped into sight from the medical bay, drawn by the raised voices.

"I want you to explain what the hell you meant," Jack growled. He knew he should have taken Ianto's hint and moved the conversation into more private surroundings, but he wasn't entirely sure the other man would follow if he tried. "How can you say you don't trust me, after demanding I give you _my_ trust only this morning?"

Ianto's expression remained carefully blank. "Perhaps if you'd given it..." He trailed off and shrugged. "I guess we're equal now."

Knowing he shouldn't be surprised by Ianto's sarcasm, Jack still frowned in bewilderment. "What's gotten into you?" he asked helplessly.

"I thought we'd already covered that one," Ianto replied. "An _alien_ got into me and screwed with my head, remember?"

"Ianto," sighed the Captain, "just...come back into the office."

"I told you, I've said all I have to say about this."

"So I'm not allowed to know what I've done to keep you from sharing that part of your life with me?"

Ianto rolled his eyes. "I'll answer that if you can tell me _why_ I should share it with you."

There was a trick here, Jack knew, and he narrowed his eyes at the younger man. "Because of what we have," he replied cautiously. "Isn't that worth your honesty?"

Ianto smiled and shook his head, gaze directed somewhere past Jack's shoulder. "I can't believe you're even trying to use that argument." He started to turn away but span back, a scowl distorting his features. "No, seriously, I can't believe it. How _dare_ you try to use that against me!" He took a step forward, finger stabbing the air in punctuation. "All the crap I put up with, everything I do for you, and you think that gives you the right to demand even more from me?!"

"I'm not demanding-"

"You are! You want me to open up, to tell you every single secret I might have, with no regard at all to my privacy!"

"Is it really so bad that I want to help?!" Jack asked, his anger rising again. Why was Ianto being so defensive about this?

Tosh slipped from her chair, eyeing both Ianto and Jack with something akin to fear. "Guys..."

"This has nothing to do with you, Tosh," Jack snapped. "Stay out of it."

"Don't talk to her like that," Ianto retorted just as sharply.

"If you'd come into the damn office and stop hiding behind her then I wouldn't have to."

Ianto stared incredulously at him. "Hiding?" he echoed.

"Yes, Ianto, hiding. Using her presence to try and keep me from mentioning your little _kink_."

The snide tone came from his frustration, the threat from his exasperation, and together they elicited a narrow fearful glare from the young Welshman. Jack could almost see the calculations taking place in Ianto's mind; would he really bring that up now, in front of the others, just to get his way?

The answer in this case was: yes, absolutely. Now that Jack knew the extent of Ianto's secret habit, he could not allow it to continue outside the Hub, and he would do whatever it took to make sure that Ianto stayed out of harm's way.

"Don't you fucking dare," Ianto said, his voice low and hostile as he recognised the determination in the Captain's eyes.

"You keep saying that to me," replied Jack, "even though you know I'll do whatever I deem necessary to keep Torchwood safe."

"It has nothing to do with Torchwood!" Ianto cried yet again. "It's my life, my problem and I don't want you involved!"

"Jack, I think you should listen to him," Owen said, finally climbing the last step up from the medical bay. He had a scowl upon his face, but his empty hands were held up before him in a placating gesture.

The Captain turned on him. "Why are you taking his side?" A disturbing thought entered his mind. "You already knew didn't you?" Owen shook his head in confusion but Jack wasn't having any of it. "Of course you knew. You'd have seen the...the what? Bruises? Rope burns? Whip marks?" He glanced back at Ianto. "You never did go into detail," he said with an unrepentant shrug.

The young Welshman stared at him in astonishment. His mouth opened but no words came out.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," Owen said in his place. "What the hell? What are you talking about?"

"Ianto?" Tosh asked quietly, peering up at the shocked Welshman.

Jack took in the stunned atmosphere and wondered if he might have been a little hasty to assume Owen knew anything about the situation. Ianto _was_ good at hiding things, after all; maybe he'd even managed to conceal any telling marks from the doctor as well.

"You bastard," Ianto ground out. His breath was coming in sharp gasps, face reddening with either embarrassment, rage, or both. "You have no right-"

"I have every right when you're putting us all at risk! You placed your life in an outsider's hands and let him manipulate you! What if he'd tried to use you to get at Torchwood?"

"What? Alex doesn't know anything about Torchwood."

"And how can you be so sure of that?" Jack demanded. "You know that threats can come from anywhere, why is this guy clear of suspicion?"

Ianto's face grew even redder, his body tense and his gaze locked with Jack's. "I must have missed the memo about performing background checks on everyone we associate with," he said sarcastically. "Oh, but wait, you've never done that for any of your contacts. I guess it's only _me_ with poor judgement, right?" He spoke the last few words in an uncharacteristic sneer, his face twisting with ugly emotions.

"Don't be a fool, Ianto. You know perfectly well how much power you gave that man and how it could have been used against you." Jack couldn't believe he had to argue this hard to get his point across. It wasn't often that Ianto was blind to something so obvious...in fact it was downright unprecedented.

"Oh-kay fellas," Owen said in a surprisingly soothing voice. "I think we all need to just calm down and-"

"I didn't give him any power," declared Ianto, ignoring Owen's attempt to intervene. "I was the one in control."

"The sub dominates from below?" Jack asked. "True, unless the goddamn sadist has a secret agenda and a gift for manipulation."

Ianto groaned with frustration. "He's not the enemy, Jack! I'm sure you've already done a check on him, so why are you acting like he's the bad guy?"

"Because _you_ are continuing to prove just how blind you are to this situation. And if your judgement is impaired then I'm not going to let you prance around the city getting spanked by any bloke with a business page on Facebook!"

Quiet fell abruptly across the room like a drenching of ice cold water, leaving only the sound of Ianto's wheezing breath to break the silence.

Jack held his gaze, refusing to back down now he had the upper hand. In his peripheral vision he saw Tosh glance worriedly at Owen, who in turn moved forward to block their line of sight.

"Right, that's enough!" he growled fiercely, glaring at the Captain. "Jack, bugger off. Ianto, sit down before you collapse, and for God's sake take a deep breath."

Jack opened his mouth to protest but Owen saw and took a step towards him, radiating menace despite his smaller stature. "I don't give a fuck what you're about to say, Jack, so don't even bother. All I care about is the fact that _he_," the doctor jerked a thumb over his shoulder to where Tosh was pushing Ianto gently towards the old battered sofa, "is about to hyperventilate. Now get lost until he's breathing normally again!"

The urge to protest still remained, in spite of Owen's warning, but when Jack glanced at Ianto's now pale face, a tiny thread of sense slipped past his anger. He realised with a start that the delicate state of balance Ianto had only just been holding in place the past few months had just crumbled to dust.

Because of him.

He hesitated, loath to run away when the matter was far from dealt with, but Owen's dark glower left him in no doubt that his presence would not be tolerated by any of them right then.

"Fine," Jack said unhappily, "but he's not to leave the Hub." Tosh glanced up at that, surprise and concern in her dark eyes, whilst Ianto merely stared blindly at the coffee table. "If I see him anywhere _near_ an exit, I'll put us into full lockdown. Got it?"


	15. Chapter 15

A/N: Sooo busy, but I've finally managed to finish Tuesday, yay! (Also, Lesley, I can't reply to your review, but thanks very much! In fact, thanks to everyone still reading this!)

* * *

Owen waited until Jack had disappeared into his office before he turned back to Ianto. He sat on the edge of the sofa, body rigid and face deathly white. Tosh perched anxiously beside him, a hand upon his arm.

"Okay," Owen began, though he wasn't sure what to say next. He looked around uncomfortably. "Uh..."

"Ianto," Tosh said, when he'd trailed off into silence, "what Jack was saying..." She glanced at Owen before valiantly pressing on. "I mean, did he...are you...?"

"Why did you stand up for me?" Ianto asked abruptly, still frozen in place, gaze cast downwards.

Owen rolled his eyes. "Because you looked like you were about to have a heart attack. Or a panic attack. Or any kind of attack that no self-respecting doctor could stand by and let happen." When Ianto didn't respond, he moved around the table and loomed over the other man. "Look, I enjoy watching a lover's tiff as much as the next guy-"

"Owen!" Tosh protested.

"-but when someone's about to keel over then it's kinda my duty to step in." He then gave a cruel smile. "Shame though. It's not often we get to see you lose it like that."

"Owen!" Tosh said again. "You're not helping!"

He shrugged. It was true; he'd always found pleasure in seeing Ianto's cool facade crack even just a little and, considering that fact wasn't exactly a secret, it seemed stupid to pretend otherwise. "Anyway you've stopped gasping for breath now, so come on, downstairs."

Ianto looked up, his eyes wide with alarm. "What?"

"Downstairs," Owen repeated. "I need to check you over."

"No!" Ianto shook his head firmly, then seemed to realise the abruptness with which he had answered. "There's no need, I'm fine."

But Owen wasn't about to accept his word on that right now. "Jack mentioned bruises and rope burns, so there is too a need." He'd also mentioned whip marks, but Owen couldn't bring himself to tackle that particular thought just yet. "I'm not taking no for an answer," he went on, when Ianto failed to respond.

"I'm fine," Ianto insisted again. He stood hurriedly and looked for a way past his colleagues, which only served to heighten his appearance of guilt.

Owen's mind took that observation and ran with it; forming the scene of Ianto being whipped that he'd been trying hard not to imagine. Oh to hell with good manners, he decided, just seconds before he blurted, "A sadist? Really?"

Ianto looked like an animal trapped in the headlights of a swiftly approaching mindfuck. Owen smirked at his own analogy, then noticed the younger man was trying to sidle out of reach. "I mean I know they say it's always the quiet ones, and I also realise you can't have been boffing Jack without being at least a little twisted inside, but I can't say I ever imagined you dolled up in rubber with a ball gag in your mouth."

"Owen!" Tosh gasped once again, but he ignored her, far too amused by Ianto's expression of horror to worry about her feeling offended on Tea-Boy's behalf.

The abuse, however, seemed to rattle something loose in Ianto's mind and he stopped edging backwards. "How have I not thrown you off a building yet?" he asked darkly and Owen couldn't stop himself from wincing at the threat. The idea of being alive in a broken body disturbed him even more than dying for good; trust Ianto to figure that out and use it against him.

"How have I not seen your photo online, tied up and begging like a little bitch?" Owen shot back at him.

"Oh so you've been trawling the porn sites again, have you?" Ianto said without missing a beat. "Guess I'm going to have to put the parental locks back on the computers."

"SHUT UP!"

The two bickering men fell silent and turned to find Tosh looking between them with pained eyes. "Don't argue," she pleaded, before settling her attention on Ianto. "You promised things weren't going to fall apart."

The whispered words had as much of an effect on Ianto as Owen's insults and his entire body slumped, as though the weight of the world had just fallen onto his shoulders. He sighed tiredly. "They're not," he said, unable to meet her gaze. "They won't. I won't let them."

With a faint shake of his head, he flicked his eyes briefly at Owen. "Okay," he said, and moved ahead of the doctor towards the autopsy bay.

* * *

"Fuck," Owen declared, falling into the chair in front of Jack's desk. Even the act of dropping down with a loud thump gave his numb body no pleasure and his scowl deepened. "Fucking-bloody-fuck."

Jack looked at him with an empty expression. "You found something then?"

His tone caused Owen to narrow his eyes suspiciously. "You weren't sure," he guessed.

"No." The Captain sighed. "I hadn't really seen anything for myself." He looked to his window into the Hub, though it was unlikely he could see anyone outside from that angle. "He didn't give me many details either, but I got the gist of it."

Owen shook his head. "This is seriously fucked up. For all the loose screws we've got around here, I thought his at least were tighter than anyone else's."

"That's the problem; they were too tight. He got wound up, too accustomed to being in control all the time, and the moment that control started to fail everything else followed suit." Jack sighed again. "Go on."

Taking that as a request for his official report, Owen slumped down even further, lifting a foot and bracing it against the desk.

It had taken him barely any time at all to conduct his examination. Knowing that he was looking for something out of the ordinary, and not just the usual Weevil scratches or rashes from alien pods, he'd been able to spot the tiny clues quickly.

A voice in the back of his head had spat a vivid string of curses the entire time he was working, angry that he'd apparently missed something that had been right under his nose every time Ianto had recently needed patching up. The intricacies of the Welshman's private life weren't exactly high on Owen's lists of interests – unless it provided him with decent ammunition for teasing – but being the team doctor meant that he should have noticed any injuries sustained _at all_.

"There are signs of restraints being fixed around his wrists and ankles," he began, "though whatever was used wasn't rough enough to cut into the flesh. They've rubbed and irritated his skin, and his limbs were probably sore after removal, but there's no damage caused by the bindings. On his back, particularly at the sides where the skin is thinner across the ribs, there are a few fine scars from flagellation. Again, however, I doubt the skin was frequently broken and probably only then by accident.

"There are also scratches upon his upper chest which did draw blood, caused by fingernails I would guess, which are healing well thanks to Ianto's own ministrations. And to top it all off, there's a fresh bruise on the side of his neck."

Jack blinked slowly, ageless features revealing nothing of his thoughts. "Bruise?" he repeated and Owen smiled wryly.

"Love bite," he confirmed with a mixture of reluctance and dark humour. In spite of what he'd discovered that day, he couldn't help but find some amusement in Ianto of all people having a hickey.

Jack gave a grunt and leaned back in his chair, folding his arms defensively across his chest. "No damage, no lasting marks," he muttered quietly, almost to himself.

He said nothing more and Owen actually began to feel disturbed by the silence. "What are you going to do?" he asked.

"Stop him," Jack said firmly.

"You think you can?" Owen glanced needlessly back at the closed door behind him. "This _is_ Ianto we're talking about."

The expression of resolve upon Jack's face did not slip for even a moment. "I'm not going to just ignore this, Owen."

"How then?"

Jack gave a grim smile. "He stops altogether or he does it under my conditions. Those are his two options and I'll make sure he realises I won't accept anything else if he wants to stay a part of Torchwood."

"Right," Owen agreed dubiously, not because he doubted Jack's abilities, but because he could clearly imagine the fierce resistance Ianto would put up when faced with such an ultimatum.

* * *

Tosh stood in the middle of the autopsy bay, hugging herself and shifting her weight uneasily. She stared at Ianto sitting upon the metal bed as though looking away would cause him to disappear. The enormity of the situation had not completely settled in her mind, the notion so dark and disturbing that her thoughts shied away from any solid contemplation of what Ianto had admitted, Jack had insinuated, and Owen had discovered during his examination.

Instead she focused only on the fact that Ianto was in trouble and could come to harm if he were left to his own devices. She had no fear that he would hurt himself, but it was clear that whatever he was doing with the man he and Jack had argued about, it was not something to be encouraged.

"Do you think it's fair for Jack to dictate what I do in my free time?" Ianto asked, after a long five minutes of silence. His gaze was distant but Tosh knew he was fully aware of her presence in the room, though she'd been quiet since arriving to watch over him whilst Owen talked to Jack.

"I don't think I know enough to judge that," she replied softly.

"He doesn't have the right to run my life," Ianto went on, as though she hadn't spoken. "He doesn't own me."

Tosh bit at her lip, pained by the absence of Ianto's usual cool tone. "He's worried for you. We all are."

The young Welshman sighed, before jumping to his feet and straightening his jacket. "I wonder if anyone will ever care for my opinion," he said. Lifting his head, he turned to face Tosh, where she hovered between him and the tiled steps. "Are you planning to help him keep me here, locked up like an animal?"

"Ianto..."

He stared at her expectantly, chin lifting so it seemed more than ever that he looked down at her. It wasn't often these days that someone could make her feel small, in presence or stature, but Tosh felt barely three inches tall beneath Ianto's dull gaze. There was no battle to be had – even if Ianto had been acting entirely normal, Tosh would still have given way to him – but as she stepped aside to let him pass, he turned his back on her and ascended the steps behind him instead, snubbing even her delicate attempt at empathy.

* * *

As Ianto reached the top of the steps, Jack and Owen appeared before him, like a rehearsed step in a dance they hadn't been invited to join.

"I'm going to need your mobile and PDA," Jack informed him without any preamble. He held out his hand as though Ianto would simply surrender them, just like that.

"That isn't necessary," he said, glancing at Owen to gauge his thoughts on this matter. The medic seemed torn between glaring at him or the wall, with the wall winning out when Ianto looked his way.

"It is, actually, because I know what you can do with them." The Captain's tone was all business, suggesting that whatever he'd just heard from Owen had knocked all the emotion from him. "I'm merely pre-empting a situation we'd undoubtedly face further down the line."

"Tosh, you need to lock him out of all essential systems too," Owen said, shifting his attention away from the wall as she climbed up beside Ianto.

"Right," she murmured, troubled and unsure, but, after a confirming nod from Jack, she ducked from the triangle of solemn men to do as he'd said.

"So, are you going to stick me in with the Weevils or the slugs?" Ianto asked, lifting his hands and pressing his wrists together, the very image of a criminal awaiting his cuffs. "Because either way it's going to ruin my suit. And I really do like this suit."

There was no notable reaction on either Jack or Owen's face; although Owen seemed able to look at Ianto again now, perhaps more comfortable with the familiar sarcasm.

"You could have a cell to yourself, if you really wanted," said Jack. "But I was thinking more of the rooms up here."

Well, Ianto admitted to himself, at least Jack wasn't assuming he'd bed down where he usually stayed. "If I gave you my word that I wouldn't see Alex again, or anyone else who offers...that kind of thing...would you even believe me?"

Jack studied him closely. "I'd want to. But I'm not sure a promise would be good enough anymore."

"And what does that mean?"

"It means there's a guy out there with a hard-on for you, literally, and I don't think he'd let you get away so easily."

Ianto sighed. Sometimes talking to Jack felt like banging his head against a wall of narcissism. He thought about arguing, about pointing out for the nth time that the arrangement with Alex was purely business, but he was so tired of repeating himself. Instead, he just stood there, waiting for the explanation that would undoubtedly follow his weary silence.

"I don't know what rules you think you established with that man," Jack began, as Ianto had expected, "but you didn't see the look in his eyes when I interrupted him." Jack's stance slipped from commanding to pleading, a rare look for him, especially when he was trying to get his way. "It wasn't a professional look, Ianto, and believe me I've seen a lot of unprofessional looks in my time."

Ianto lifted a hand and pressed his thumb into one closed eye and fingers into the other; he could feel a migraine forming and wasn't that just the icing on the cake for this shitty day? "You're going to Retcon him, aren't you?" The delay in responding told Ianto all he needed to know. "Of course you are," he went on, "that's your solution to everything."

"You were wrong before," said Jack, ignoring Ianto's accusation. "I hadn't looked for any info on him. Why would I? Until today I thought he was just a guy you were screwing."

Sceptical though he was, Ianto's fingers dropped from his eyes to his lips, his mind turned away from the headache to Jack's words. After the threat he'd made earlier that day about looking up Alex for himself, Ianto had assumed Jack had gone ahead and done so, especially as he'd felt the need to follow Ianto after their brief quarrel.

To hear the claim that Jack had actually kept his snooping to a minimum – including the fact he'd only burst into Alex's flat upon hearing Ianto's cry of protest – gave Ianto data he didn't know quite how to interpret. Despite all the talk of lacking faith in the young Welshman, had Jack perhaps been _trying_ to trust him?

And if so, what did that mean precisely?

"But I have now," Jack said, interrupting Ianto's jumbled thoughts, "and he's dangerous. Too dangerous to be allowed his memories of you." The Captain paused, then declared, "He's done it before."

Ianto, who had been staring blindly at Jack's boots, now glanced up. "Done what?"

"Taken an infatuation too far." Jack held his gaze intently. "I found a police report from twelve years ago; an eighteen year old claiming he'd been held captive and abused for six months straight by your _friend_."

"He doesn't have a record," Ianto protested. "I checked."

"There was no evidence to support the kid, and the fact that he _did_ have a record meant the police were quite happy to forget the accusation." Shrugging, Jack folded his arms across his chest. "Considering his current occupation, I'd be inclined to think there was at least some truth in the story."

"Then that'd be rather narrow-minded of you," Ianto pointed out. "To made an assumption like that isn't very Fifty-First Century, is it? I'd say it was biased, more than anything else."

Jack stared at him, not at all put off by that judgement. "You didn't see his reaction-"

With an exasperated sigh, Ianto waved for him to stop. "Okay, fine, Retcon him then, if you're so worried about my safety." He knew Jack would have done so with his permission or not, but somehow saying it still made him feel like he'd just robbed a man of a piece of his life.

"And what about me?" he added, to distract himself from the guilt. "You said earlier you just wanted a promise that I'd stop. Now it seems you're not going to let me leave the Hub even if I sign a contract in blood! Are you planning to keep me here for the rest of my life?"

"Just until I can be sure you're not going to run off and do anything stupid," Jack said. "Owen suggested finding you a thera-"

"No!" Ianto interrupted, horrified by the idea. He glared at the doctor, who didn't look too thrilled by it either.

Jack took the protest in his stride, perhaps having expected Ianto's opposition to revealing such details to a complete stranger. "Then you stay here until I'm satisfied you've accepted the danger of what you were doing, or until we've come to an agreement of our own."

Ianto narrowed his eyes suspiciously at that final comment, but something kept him from asking what the immortal meant. He wasn't sure he could handle that right then. Instead he simply pulled out the contents of his pockets – phone, keys, loose change, everything – and set them down with a metallic clatter on the coffee table. A few coins immediately rolled off the edge and under the couch to be lost forever.

There was really no point in arguing anymore; Ianto knew talking would do him no good, at least not until Jack had calmed down and was more likely to accept reason. He was currently outnumbered and he knew it was time to concede before Jack was forced to take further action to contain him.

"I'm going to assume you won't stop me from doing my usual work here," he said, mentally crossing his fingers that Jack would consider the Hub a secure enough prison without having to keep Ianto on a short leash as well.

"I wouldn't dream of it," Jack replied. If he was surprised at all by Ianto's surrender, he didn't show it.

Ianto merely smiled blandly and got as far away from the older man as he possible could.

* * *

Later that evening, after Tosh had gone home, Owen had stomped off to the Hub's gym, and Jack had vanished for a flit around the rooftops, Ianto dug out one of the spare mobiles that everyone else seemed to have forgotten existed – which was ridiculous considering how frequently they lost or broke them during the more physical of their alien encounters.

Still, their absent-mindedness meant that Ianto's first act of defiance was incredible easy to execute. He wasn't being insolent on purpose (okay, maybe just a little) but it was purely good manners to check on the man his lover had almost beaten to a pulp that afternoon.

Granted, once Jack had Retconned him, Alex wouldn't remember either the attack or any subsequent remorse, but Ianto had always been a firm believer in decorum no matter what the situation.

As he dialled the number, Ianto checked his watch. He didn't think Jack would try to deal with Alex that night – there being no real urgency with Ianto safely in the Hub – but he supposed pig-headedness could lead him there anyway.

"Yes?" The word came along the line muffled and slow, the speaker either tired or drugged or both.

Ianto hesitated, reassessing his theories about Jack's determination. "It's Ianto," he said eventually, figuring he could always pass it off as a wrong number if Alex didn't recognise the name.

There was silence. Then a grunt of laughter. "You took your time," Alex said. "I've been waiting for an apology all day."

"Ah." Ianto grimaced. "Sorry. And, yeah, sorry about earlier too. Are you all right?"

"I've got a fractured cheekbone, a black eye, broken nose and a split lip." Alex grunted again, the thickness of his voice apparently due more to swelling than either fatigue or medication. "But I've had worse. You can tell your buddy not to try any of that shit next time you're here though, 'cuz I won't be so civil if I see him again."

"Ah," Ianto said again, "about that. I'm not going to be able to get over there for a while."

Another brief silence. "Why?"

"Work mostly." Ianto leaned heavily on the shelving unit behind which he was lurking, though he was already in a secluded room deep in the Hub. He hadn't really thought about having to explain himself to Alex, but in hindsight he supposed it was inevitable the other man would ask. "Something's come up and I'll be busy for the time being."

"Work," Alex echoed. "Not your overprotective boyfriend then?"

Ianto closed his eyes. "It really doesn't mat-"

"Actually it does," Alex cut in, his voice still thick but full of anger now. "You can't listen to him, Ianto, he doesn't understand you. If he did he wouldn't stop you from getting the help you need."

"I'm sure it won't be for long..."

"You need to leave him. You need to stop letting him make bad decisions for you and listen to someone with experience."

Ianto was strangely unnerved by that declaration. "Like you?" he guessed.

"I do this for a living, remember?"

The hand holding the phone to Ianto's ear dropped slightly, his arm leaden with both physical and mental exhaustion. Though it was undeniable he had the occasional urge to let someone else take charge of his actions, that did not mean he wanted to be told what to do every moment of the day. "Look," he said, sighing as he lifted the mobile again, "I appreciate your dedication, but I think it best if I take a break from all that for now. You said other clients sometimes stop because of changes in their lives, so you know this is not a reflection on you, right?"

A harsh laugh sounded along the line. "I told you, you're not a client anymore," Alex said.

Ianto frowned, recalling with sudden clarity the other man saying that shortly before shoving his hand down Ianto's trousers. But that had all been an act; one Ianto hadn't sanctioned perhaps, but an act nonetheless. "There's no point in all that now," he said, his fatigue making him impatient. "I'm sorry but I'm sure you'll have no problem filling my timeslot."

"Shut up!" the other man barked at him. "Stop all this bullshit and get over here right now!"

"Alex-"

"No! I demand you come here and finish what you started earlier!"

The fury in his voice left Ianto speechless for a few seconds, overwhelmed by the unquestionable sincerity with which Alex spoke. "I can't," he murmured, whilst a sinking feeling swept across him.

"I'm not asking, Ianto. I'm _telling_ you. Get. Here. Now!"

_Oh God._ Ianto's chin dropped to his chest, the energy draining from his body. He'd been right, Jack had been right about this man and Ianto had been so desperate for help that he hadn't noticed any of the signs lurking right before his eyes.

"Ianto," Alex growled. "If you don't come here, I'll come and find you instead. I have contacts, powerful people who can find anyone, anywhere, you hear me?"

Ianto almost laughed at the threat; it was technically impotent, considering how much more power Ianto had at his own fingertips, but the determination in Alex's voice held back the young man's mirth. "I'm sorry," he said again, pulling the phone from his ear and disconnecting the call, just as a loud rant began to issue from the earpiece.

Fully alone and in silence now, Ianto slid to the floor, heedless of the dust and dirt around him. It wasn't so horrifying that Jack had been right about Alex – Ianto was mature enough to admit when he'd made a mistake – but what really troubled him was the fact that, Retconned or not, he'd just lost his one safe outlet for his unsettling needs...


	16. Chapter 16: Friday

Ianto was down in the room with the glass tank again, where he'd relocated the alien slugs earlier that week. They weren't exactly the best of company, but at least they didn't watch him with suspicion and disgust, and for that he was immeasurably grateful.

For the past three days he'd been trapped inside the Hub, unable to leave, call anyone other than his teammates, or even head up to the Tourist Office and man the desk for a while. The physical act of being in the Hub for so long was not really that much of an ordeal – he'd spent far longer than seventy-two hours straight down there in the past – however the constant scrutiny of his colleagues was almost more than he could bear.

Picking up the bucket of lettuce by his feet, Ianto slid open a hatch in the side of the large tank and threw the leaves in. They fell to the bottom of the container, joining the layer of curling, brown vegetables already rotting away down there. The creatures hadn't touched any of it, and what few tests Owen had managed to run suggested they didn't actually have the facilities to consume that kind of food, but Ianto felt far better making the useless gesture than not even attempting to feed them.

Looking after the slugs (or pretending to, as the case may be) was a poor way to assuage his guilt over essentially stealing the last few months of someone's life, but it was all he could do; especially after he'd confirmed for himself Jack's claims about Alex's past. It wasn't as though he'd be able to change Jack's mind, after all; it was nigh on impossible to make a valid case for someone who'd taken a business agreement too far, ignored his wishes and then threatened to hunt him down, particularly when they had a history of kidnapping and abusing others on top of everything else.

If, for that matter, he would even want to attempt making such a case.

Jack hadn't actually said anything about when or how he'd Retconned Alex but even if he hadn't (and Ianto didn't doubt for a second that he'd done it) but even if he _hadn't_, Ianto wasn't convinced he be fighting all that hard on Alex's behalf anymore. The last conversation he'd had with the older Welshman had shocked him, causing his faith in the impersonal arrangement to fracture into a thousand pieces. Being betrayed by a man he'd thought it safe to trust made it very hard to argue with Jack about using Retcon on someone who wasn't strictly associated with Torchwood and the secrets they needed to keep.

Sighing, Ianto turned away from the tank with reluctance and left the room. There was only so much time he could spend in the vaults before someone came looking for him, though what they thought he could be doing down there that wasn't visible on the CCTV was beyond him.

Not far from the slugs' chamber, he was brought up short by one of Jack's theatrical appearances in the middle of the hallway. The young man stopped, silently cursing just how much of a prisoner he'd become if he warranted one of those displays.

"Afraid I'd dug a tunnel out of here?" he asked, with an idle wish that such an endeavour was actually possible. "Next you'll be hiding all the spoons."

Jack grinned at the sarcasm, which only served to annoy Ianto further, and then indicated the room out of which he'd stepped. "Let's have a chat."

Ianto looked from the other man to the doorway and then back again. "Is there any point?"

"Like it or not, Ianto, you're going to have to deal with this sooner or later. I won't let you leave the Hub until I can be sure you're not going to get yourself maimed or something just because of a kink."

_Kink._ Ianto was really starting to hate that word. "The only reason I'm still here is because I haven't tried to leave yet," he told Jack, perhaps embellishing his own abilities a little but feeling no shame at all for doing so.

"Why haven't you then?" Jack countered smoothly.

Ianto rolled his eyes and didn't bother to answer. What good was running away when Jack would undoubtedly come after him? Whether it was to drag him back or to Retcon away his knowledge of Torchwood, there was nowhere in the world he'd be able to hide; meaning that he wasn't choosing between Jack and Alex, he was choosing between Torchwood and his... (his mind tripped over the word kink again) ...therapeutic masochism.

Ianto smiled wryly to himself, realising the folly of that thought. If he had no memory of what had happened over the last few years, he wouldn't need to flee from those demons anymore, and thus wouldn't need therapy of any kind, let alone bondage and the like.

In reality there was no decision to make at all; even if he could keep possession of his past, Ianto would never willingly give up Torchwood, and yet that still left him with the problem of his ever-decreasing discipline.

"It's in your best interests to admit defeat now," Jack was saying, suspiciously haughty as he watched Ianto's expression. "This is the only way it can be and you know it."

"This way being you or nothing?" Ianto asked bitterly. "Why, I'm practically _spoilt_ for choice."

"Do you realise how immature you sound?"

Ianto merely shrugged in response; of course he knew, but that didn't stop him from wanting to express his anger at the other man. Even if it was only with words instead of actions.

Jack took a step forward and Ianto instantly took one back. "Look," the Captain started, "you can try to give it up cold turkey, and I'm sure for a while you'll manage it, but the manner of this thing..." He trailed off and sighed. "Ianto, I've seen people try to repress certain elements of themselves before, only to fail and end up in even more danger than ever. If you bottle everything up, I'm worried what might happen when you can't hold it back any longer."

Ianto frowned as he searched Jack's eyes for the words he wasn't saying. "You think I'll hurt myself?"

"I think you'll lose your control entirely, which, yes, might lead to you being hurt. Whether by your hand or someone else's...I'd hate to hazard a guess."

Again, Ianto was silent. The concern Jack was showing – that of quiet worry instead of selfish jealousy – confused him. The tone was too gentle, hinted at too much emotion, and Ianto wasn't comfortable to hear it.

"I promise I can help," Jack said in a low voice. "I promise you can believe in me."

The words bled into the tight little knot of denial in Ianto's heart and he closed his eyes, feeling himself weakening against his will. "You know I already do," he murmured back. "I always have."

"Even though you wouldn't share your secrets with me?"

"You don't share yours with _me_," Ianto immediately countered. As he spoke aloud that fact, the brief vulnerability vanished once again. He fixed Jack with a steady look. "Besides, we're not about that, are we? Pillowtalk and hearts on our sleeves. Why does it bother you so much that I have a life outside of this place?" He frowned. "Or perhaps I should say _had_."

Jack scowled as the other man's barriers slammed back up into place. "If it were only a 'life' I wouldn't have a problem at all. But that's not the case, is it? You were abusing...no, _paying _someone to abuse your body." He shook his head, a pained look on his face. "You deserve better than that." Jack lifted a hand, cupping Ianto's cheek tenderly and the young man swallowed down a sudden rush of unwanted emotion.

"I told you why-"

"Yes, you told me," Jack interrupted. "You told me it was because of what _I_ had done that you needed a stranger to hit you and fuck you and whatever the hell else he did to you."

Ianto froze, lips parted to protest, but the words caught in his throat as he realised what Jack was trying to say. The immortal thought he was to blame for sending Ianto to Alex, because of the way he'd continued to tease his body whilst the alien in Ianto's head made him feel pain at each touch.

"If I'd only resisted," Jack continued quietly. "If I'd actually stopped and thought for one damn second..." He grimaced. "I didn't want to hurt you, Ianto. I knew what it was doing to you, but I couldn't help myself." He slid his hand down slightly, to run his thumb across Ianto's bottom lip. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry I did that to you."

Ianto brought up his own hand and covered Jack's. "It isn't your fault," he reassured him, barely registering the hypocrisy as he tried to comfort the older man. "It's obviously the twisted way my brain is wired; you just happened to be nearby when it short-circuited." The troubled expression on Jack's face remained in place despite Ianto's attempt at humour and he carried on without thinking. "Anyway, it's really not a bad thing, you know. It's nothing to be ashamed of. Alex said lots of people cope with their troubles by going to someone like him and forgetting themselves for a while."

Jack winced at the mention of the other man and pulled away his hand, perhaps a little too sharply. "But you were still too ashamed to come to me with it."

"That wasn't shame," Ianto told him. "That was..." He paused to consider his words. What was the best way to explain without giving away the fact that his feelings for the other man were truly to blame? "It just isn't something one imposes on their..." he only just caught himself before he could say anything incriminating, "...their boss."

"Their boss," echoed Jack quietly. He nodded to himself as though something he'd suspected had just be confirmed. "Okay," he went on, more firmly now. "I suppose I can see the logic in that." His gaze flicked briefly to Ianto's lips and then back up again a second before he lunged forward.

Ianto stumbled back, caught off balance, and his surprise allowed Jack to grab hold of his upper arms and pin him against the corridor wall. "Hey!" he cried in alarm.

"But what if you didn't impose on me?" Jack asked. "What if I just took matters into my own hands?"

"Let go," responded Ianto, trying not to notice to the way that resolute tone made his entire body quiver.

"No."

"Jack..."

"It's okay, Ianto." The immortal pressed closer, his gaze intense. "I want to do this for you."

"I don't want it," Ianto quickly told him. "I'm fine."

"You've been on edge for days because the truth is out. People are watching and worrying over you, which I know you hate, and I've stopped you from seeing that bastard by locking you in here. Seems to me that if ever you needed some release or escapism or whatever you want to call it, it would be now."

Ianto clenched his eyes shut against Jack's determined expression. "You don't..." he stuttered weakly, "...you can't just..."

Jack leaned in, his cheek brushing against Ianto's. "Tell me what you need," he murmured.

Ianto shook his head in denial and tried to pull away, but Jack wouldn't let him go.

"Tell me what to do, Ianto," he urged. "Let me be a part of this."

Just hearing those beseeching words made the young man shudder and he turned his face away to hide whatever truth might lie bare upon it. He couldn't tell Jack what he wanted because then the Captain would act upon it, and if he did that Ianto didn't think he'd be strong enough to resist him.

"Ianto," Jack said softly, full of compassion. "Ianto, please."

Ianto's breath caught sharply. He didn't want to hear that depth of emotion, not when he was so close to giving in to Jack's offer. He arched his back, bringing the full length of their bodies into contact, and prayed it would be enough to turn Jack's thoughts aside to something far easier to handle.

The grip of Jack's hands loosened almost immediately, the act of submission encouraging him, and he pressed his lips to Ianto's jaw. "That's it," he muttered between kisses. "Let me in."

Ianto's head thudded back against the wall. Jack clearly didn't understand at all; his gentle persuasion and the fact he'd relaxed when Ianto seemed to give in simply proved that he had no idea what Ianto really wanted. And even though he asked that Ianto direct him, what point was there in commanding when one wanted command taken _from_ them?

Jack's mouth slid over Ianto's, the younger man instinctively opening to him, and for a few minutes the heat between them rose, hands beginning to roam and soft gasps twisting around each other's tongue.

"What do you want?" Jack whispered against Ianto's lips and the younger man shook his head, refusing to answer. "Do you want me to tie you up?"

"Don't," Ianto protested, trying to lose himself in the kiss again. He could deal with sex with Jack, it certainly wasn't a hardship to give into that physical lust, but he couldn't deal with the other man trying to make him verbalise his desires.

"What should I-"

"Just kiss me," Ianto interrupted, pulling Jack closer and doing his best to silence him. The older man relented briefly, sweeping his hands up Ianto's sides before moving inward to tug his tie loose.

"There's rope and handcuffs in the room behind us," Jack went on after a while, oblivious to Ianto's attempts at deflection. "I didn't know what you'd prefer so I brought a few things for you to choose from..."

"I said don't!" Ianto cried, abruptly shoving Jack away. "Don't talk about it like that!"

Jack stared at him with uncertainty as he regained his footing. "Like what?" he asked.

"Like it's that easy!"

The young man pushed himself from the wall but Jack caught his arm as he tried to pass. "If I'm not doing it right you have to tell me," Jack growled. "I'm not a fucking expert on this kind of thing, you know."

Ianto yanked his arm free. "You don't have to be an expert," he retorted. When Jack tried to grab him again, Ianto elbowed him swiftly in the stomach and hurried away before the Captain could recover. "But you do have to use some bloody common sense!"

He vanished around the corner, leaving Jack alone and mystified over what he'd done wrong.


	17. Chapter 17: Sunday

It took nine more days for Ianto to crack completely, meaning he'd lasted twelve days in total of being constantly watched by unsubtle eyes and whirring cameras; his every move tracked as though he were a criminal instead of a man who'd earned his companions' respect through hardship and loss.

That lack of faith grated increasingly on Ianto as the days, nay, the _hours_ passed. His nerves, already shot from months of confusion regarding the development of his 'need', were strained even further by persistent shadows which followed wherever he dared venture.

The one consolation was that Jack had failed to see through his threat to keep Ianto confined completely to the Hub and it was perhaps only for that reason he hadn't snapped earlier.

When, on the previous Tuesday, the Rift had decided to spit out another dozen of the strange over-sized slugs – a number of which had been glowing in a decidedly non-slug-like manner – the entire team (those that weren't in cryo that is) had been needed out in the field. Expecting to be left behind in the Hub, from which he was increasingly sure he could escape if he tried hard enough, Ianto had been rather vexed to learn that Jack had apparently come to a similar conclusion and insisted he accompany them to collect the aliens. It wasn't that Ianto _planned_ to run and leave Cardiff forever, his entire life was there and he wasn't ready to give up on it just yet, but after a week of having his freedom compromised on Jack's orders he was eager for even just a few hours away from the oppressive atmosphere currently swamping the team.

Occasionally he was permitted to go back to his apartment, to fetch clean clothes for the most part, but he never made those trips alone. Tosh was his most frequent warden, whilst both Owen and Jack had accompanied him only the one time each. The journey with Owen had become a battle of sharp snarky comments that had caused everyone to suffer the moment they'd returned to the Hub, whilst the journey with _Jack_ had been an altogether different kind of skirmish...

That Friday had marked a full week since Ianto had almost given into Jack's poor attempt at 'helping'; a week since he'd even been _close_ to experiencing the release that had helped him in recent times. In the morning he'd allowed himself a small measure pride that so many days had passed and he'd managed to keep his mask of cool composure in place and not outwardly become the quivering wreak he sometimes felt inside.

He had also allowed himself to relax his guard somewhat; no longer fearing that Jack would attempt to force discussion of the matter upon him, because it seemed the Captain had now decided to let Ianto ride out whatever turbulent emotions had taken hold since the unveiling of his dark little secret.

The day started so well that Ianto had even begun to wonder if he could be rid of his inconvenient need with simple abstinence. But then, the moment he had led Jack into his apartment, everything crashed down again.

For some reason Jack had apparently decided that a week was long enough to hold his tongue. The questioning had started up again, gentle and persistent and with Ianto's lightened mood he'd actually felt himself weakening again, on the verge of letting his guard slip, but then a hand had landed on his shoulder, a hand which slipped rapidly to the nape of his neck.

That touch had brought Ianto sharply back to himself. Unwanted and tender, it was the last thing he'd needed at that particular moment and he had reacted with a burst of startling rage. Jack had left the apartment with a fat lip and Ianto had followed silently in his wake, wondering why his chest was tight with disappointment.

Almost as though he'd been hoping for more than a kindly stroke of the neck.

* * *

Advanced facial recognition programmes in the Hub's internal CCTV meant that Jack had eyes on Ianto at all times. A dedicated screen in his office flicked automatically to a new camera whenever Ianto moved between rooms and Jack watched on avidly, attempting to gauge his current mood. He'd already misjudged Ianto's temper once; taking his improved disposition to mean he was ready to open up, only to discover that wasn't the case at all.

Sunday morning saw the young Welshman in a state of deep agitation. He was restless, prowling the Hub like a trapped animal. Of course he _had_ technically been trapped for the past twelve days, but surprisingly this was the first time it had really been evident. The fact that he was starting to exhibit signs of tension that anyone, not just Jack, could see, was like a siren to the Captain; an alarm that marked the downward spiral of Ianto's grasp on his control.

He started off in the Tourist Office – from which Jack had unsuccessfully tried to keep him – and within a couple of hours every inch of the tiny space had been dusted, cleaned and rearranged. Twice.

Shoulders tight with both resignation and the need to do more, he moved down to the kitchenette and repeated the process there. Washing and tidying as though expecting a visit by someone who would be mortally offended if there were any stray specks of grease left on the cupboard shelves. He managed a round of coffee at this point (Jack suspected he couldn't be near the machine without automatically switching it on) but each mug was delivered with jerky movements and awkward silence.

Next he moved to the boardroom, where he proceeded to polish the long table three whole times, his hand moving in neat steady circles over the gleaming surface. Whilst Jack watched this almost hypnotic display of domesticity, Owen appeared suddenly in the corner of the screen, a dark glower upon his expressive face.

Jack switched off the mute button just in time to hear Owen demand, "What did you do with my tray of cultures?"

Ianto's hand stilled and he stared at the tabletop. "Nothing. Why?"

"It's gone."

The Welshman tilted his head and considered the doctor for a moment. "And?"

Owen stalked closer, his hands balled into fists upon his hips. "And I can't help noticing you're in one of your OCD moods."

"I didn't touch your cultures," said Ianto tightly, straightening up and facing Owen. "Why would I?"

"Well I don't bloody know, do I? All I know is you've been doing your best this week to piss everyone off, but now you've gone too far. I've been working on those things for a month!"

Ianto glowered at the other man. "I've been doing no such thing."

"Riiight," Owen drawled. "Because you always stomp around the Hub in a foul mood and give everyone the cold shoulder." He rolled his eyes and sighed dramatically. "Look, mate, you gotta get over this. Jack isn't going to let you go off to get your perverse little kicks in someone's back room..." Owen lifted a hand. "Not a euphemism." He ignored Ianto's murderous glare and went on. "Honestly, you might as well just accept it and try to forget all about that stuff, 'cuz you aren't going to win this one."

On the monitor, Jack could clearly see the disbelief in Ianto's stance as he stared at the doctor. He could also tell by the bunching of his shoulders that he was verging on a violent attack of anger that could end very badly indeed for the fragile man inexplicably provoking him.

"And for fuck's sake," Owen went on carelessly, "give me back my damn cultures!"

The side of Ianto's fist slammed down on the table at the precise moment that Jack lifted his comm. to his ear. He knew Ianto wasn't wearing his – for which he was suddenly very thankful – but that the doctor was. "Owen, back off," he barked upon opening the channel. "Leave him alone and get out of there."

The image of the lifeless man cocked his head minutely to the side as he received Jack's command, though the rest of his body remained still. Even if he had moved a hand to his ear in response to the communication, Jack doubted Ianto would have seen it, for he was now bent over, shaking fist pressed hard into the table, eyes cast downwards and his back rising and falling with fast explosive gasps for breath.

"I mean it, Owen," Jack went on. "You don't know what he might do if you push him too far."

A part of the Captain's mind was amazed that he had to warn another of his team to be wary of Ianto. When things had started to unravel two weeks earlier, he'd told Tosh and Owen not to force Ianto into talking about it, but he'd never felt any concern over their safety until the second the young man's fist had crashed into the table with unmistakable force.

Jack hadn't been completely ready to view Ianto's restlessness that day as solid proof of an impending breakdown, but the violence with which he'd hit the table told him all he needed to know.

"Owen..." he warned, inwardly praying that the doctor wouldn't resist his orders purely out of pride.

Owen scowled darkly, his eyes darting towards the discrete camera in the ceiling so that he was glaring out at Jack through the monitor. "Fuck this," he growled, still staring at the lens, before turning on his heel and storming out into the hallway.

The image became almost static as Ianto remained hunched over, struggling to regain control of himself. His hands clenched and opened on the table, clenched and opened, clenched and opened, a rhythm matched by the movement of his back with every breath he dragged into his lungs.

"Doesn't he know what he's doing?" Owen raged into Jack's ear a moment later. "The childish bastard has Tosh convinced he'll get himself killed and he doesn't give a damn! He needs help, Jack, he needs fucking shock therapy or something!"

Jack ignored the angry tirade, his attention fixed solely on Ianto's back as the young man began to methodically polish the spot on the table he had just struck.

* * *

The archives were blissfully quiet and dark whether it was day or night and, of late, Ianto didn't have a more favoured spot in the entire Hub.

Since being confined to the underground base by Jack's ultimatum, Ianto had only been able to find solace in the one area that the Captain conceded was his domain. Everywhere else was swamped in the heavy shadow that had hounded him all week, especially when Jack – who usually lightened Ianto's mood considerably whenever nearby – was present.

Ianto hauled another handful of manila folders out of a filing cabinet and set them in the box by his side. After the run-in with Owen he'd decided it was probably for the best that he kept out of everyone else's way for the rest of the day and had returned to the project he'd been working on sporadically ever since starting at Torchwood Three. Ironically enough he'd managed to copy more of the old hand-written records into the database in the past twelve days than he had in all his time working there. It turned out he was even more productive when he worked through the night and paused only for a few hours of restless sleep when he couldn't keep his eyes open any longer.

He glanced at the box and added another couple of bulging folders to it, mentally calculating that he had enough now to see him through to the early hours of the morning. As he straightened up, the air shifted behind him and he turned sharply, expecting to find that a particular unwanted visitor had materialised in the room yet again. But there was no one there and the muscles that had started to gather upon his brow in preparation for an almighty frown relaxed in confusion. Was he starting to imagine things as well now?

Sudden pressure on his back knocked him against the open drawer and his arms were captured in a vice-like hold just above the elbow.

Ianto blinked, one eye bare millimetres away from the corner of the metal cabinet, and his mind caught up abruptly with what had just happened. He immediately began to twist in the solid grasp. "Let go," he said, when he managed to gain nothing from his squirming.

The hands moved, but instead of disappearing they slid down to his wrists, still tight and bruising, and forced Ianto's arms to bend upwards so that they met in the small of his back.

"Jack," Ianto growled. "Let the fuck go."

The Captain's body pressed him harder into the cabinet and a soft tut clicked into his ear. "Such language," Jack murmured, forcing Ianto's arms further up his back so he could grip both wrists with one large hand.

"I don't know what you think you're-" Ianto began, only to break off as something cold and metallic was clamped around one of his wrists. His eyes widened with panic and he turned his head to the side, all pretence of composure gone as he realised what was happening. "No," he said, "don't."

"But I want to," Jack countered simply, snapping the second cuff into place.

Ianto twisted again, but he had no chance of escaping the strong hold Jack had upon him. "I told you I didn't want you to be a part of this," he said through gritted teeth, struggling as best he could when trapped between the cabinet and the older man.

"And I don't think you have a choice."

The immortal's tone was laced with both threat and humour and Ianto was troubled by how to react to that. Did the faint trace of teasing mean that if he truly put up a fight Jack would stop? Ianto grimaced as he wiggled, unsure of the answer. The fact that Jack was trying something as bold as forcing him into this position after all of the Welshman's protests suggested he had reached the limit of his patience.

"Jack," he said, unable to simply give in, despite knowing very well how determined the other man could be when he set out upon a particular path. "Jack, if you do this I'll never forgive you."

Jack leaned in even closer. "You don't want this?" he murmured and Ianto shook his head quickly, seeing hope in the Captain's question.

A hand clamped over Ianto's nose and mouth and his head jerked back in surprise, trying unsuccessfully to dislodge it. Jack's free arm wrapped itself tightly around his waist, which proved a wise move, for when Ianto realised there was a damp cloth within the hand, his efforts to escape increased dramatically.

His cries of anger were muffled by the material but they, and his squirming, quickly died down as the fumes he inhaled started to take effect.

"I don't believe you," Jack informed him solemnly, a moment before the young man slumped into his arms, unconscious.


	18. Chapter 18

**A/N: So people had some issues with this chapter, and to be fair I understand why, so I've decided to tweak it a little (late, I know, but better than never, eh?) For this reason some reviews might not make sense, but hopefully not enough to put anyone off! O_O **

**(Also I just accidentally deleted the chapter, hence 18-20 have just been re-uploaded, sorry for the spam!)**

* * *

Ianto's head throbbed as though he'd spent a long night out on the town, and he had to blink at least a dozen times before realising that his vision wasn't actually blurred; he was just extremely close to whatever he was looking at.

After that initial problem had been solved, Ianto became aware of pressure against his cheek, the unforgiving sensation of something solid beneath his face. He lifted his head slightly, wincing first as pain struck his temples like a hammer, and then again when his skin reluctantly peeled away from the smooth surface.

"Uhn," he groaned, mind reeling as he tried to remember what the hell he'd been doing to end up sprawled across a...desk? He squeezed his eyes tightly shut before checking again, but his impromptu bed remained an inanimate piece of office furniture.

Confused, he tried to push himself up, only to find his arms wouldn't obey the command. He frowned, staring blearily at the dark bands of...something...that wrapped about his wrists before disappearing over the edge of the desk. A quick tug confirmed that this was the source of his immobile limbs and whilst one part of his brain was searching his memories for the origin of these curious restraints, another part was helpfully pointing out that he was _fucking tied up_!

"What?" Ianto asked helplessly, trying again to straighten up, despite knowing full well that it was impossible. He redirected his attention to the rest of his body, realising that if the top half was slumped over the desk, then the rest of it was hanging off the side.

Still fighting the cotton wool in his head, Ianto shakily regained his feet, feeling the pull of strained muscles from the unnatural position, along with a rather different pull from another set of restraints about his ankles – restraints which held his legs uncomfortably wide apart.

"Jack," the Welshman said, though the 'J' got caught in the dryness of his mouth. He swallowed, licked his lips, opened them again to call the man he presumed responsible for this, but the word never came out.

All thought of speech vanished from his mind as he realised the arms he'd been staring at were bare. He cast his eyes down at himself. His chest was bare too. He twisted to look further down and...yep, his legs, his feet, his god-damned _everything_ was bare.

Ianto pulled a face and tried to ignore the mental image of himself naked in such an indignant pose. "Jack," he said again, forcing out the name instead of the multitude of curses that jostled for freedom.

Every tiny detail of the confrontation down in the archives flooded back into Ianto's head and panic finally started to set in – because, apparently, waking to find he'd been tied up just wasn't alarming enough anymore.

"Fuck," he muttered to himself, pulling hard on the restraints. "Untie me, Jack!" he said, louder this time as he turned his head to search the room for the older man. He couldn't allow this to happen, couldn't let Jack do this to him, no matter how much he ached for it.

The Captain appeared silently before the desk and Ianto craned his neck to look up, eyes sweeping over the familiar greatcoat towards his lover's face, but faltering when they reached his hands. Jack was wearing black gloves, the fitted kind that spoke of quality leatherwork, and he was holding a – dear lord – a riding crop. Ianto frowned; where the hell had he got a _riding crop_ from?

Jack apparently noticed the focus of Ianto's attention and slapped the tongue of the crop against his empty palm, the sound jolting the young Welshman out of his daze and causing his wide eyes to dart immediately to Jack's face.

Once there, Ianto suffered another shock as he saw, perched firmly upon Jack's head, a cap that matched his nostalgic outfit perfectly. Ianto's mind almost went entirely blank; almost, because he was suddenly very curious as to how Jack could have owned such an item without Ianto ever having seen it before. It had certainly never made an appearance in any of their previous..._costume_-related encounters and, judging by the knot forming low in his stomach, that was a very disappointing thing indeed.

Ianto felt his cheeks warming, becoming even more flushed than they already were, as he realised with shame that he was allowing himself to be distracted by the man who stood before him, when he should be fighting with everything he had to escape this situation.

"Untie me," he forced himself to say, pulling harder on the bindings as he tried once more to straighten up.

Jack grinned at him, teeth and eyes flashing with almost feral brightness. "No." He slapped his palm again with the crop. "I like this view."

"Jack, I'm not kidding."

"Neither am I." The Captain began to pace across Ianto's field of vision, hands behind his back and the riding crop sweeping like a tail in his wake. "It seems to me we've reached an impasse," he said imperiously. "You refuse my help and I refuse your refusal. Therefore only one course of action remains." He glanced sidelong at Ianto, the grin still upon his lips. "That would be this course right here, in case you were wondering."

Ianto glared at him. "Oh really?" he asked, with all the calm he could possibly muster. "Well I think the only course is for you to untie me right now and let me leave the Hub. On my own."

The pacing continued whilst the immortal made a show of considering the request. "Again, no," he finally replied. "You see, I've realised the mistake I made this past week. I kept expecting you to give in and ask me to help with this little _issue_ of yours." The thoughtful expression turned wry as Jack came to a halt and loomed over Ianto. "Naturally I was wrong to ever assume you'd do any such thing. Of course you wouldn't ask for help, you're _you_. The point of this is to have control taken away from you and having to beg for my assistance wouldn't really fit that criteria, would it?"

Ianto could feel himself trembling, from the awkward position mostly, but also an intriguing mix of irritation and - though he was loath to admit it even to himself – excitement.

"I would never beg," he informed the other man, determined not to yield despite the fact that something in the Captain's blunt assurance, the power that he portrayed with only a few words, stirred the secret part of Ianto's heart that had yearned for this precise situation.

"Oh, come now," Jack purred, leaning over so Ianto was forced to twist his neck even further to keep eye-contact. "I've heard you beg plenty of times." Ianto said nothing, merely glowered at him, and the older man chuckled warmly in response. "Okay, fair enough, those were rather different circumstances."

Jack brought the riding crop out from behind him and ran the fingers of his free hand along the thin rod. Ianto's eyes were drawn to the movement, the slow stroke almost hypnotic, and when Jack flicked the crop's tongue with his fingertips, Ianto twitched, imaging the leather striking his bare skin. He cursed silently, hating that his body reacted so easily when his mind so ardently wished against letting Jack win.

It felt as though months had passed since he'd last been able to fully let himself go in a safe environment; that his last visit with Alex had ended so badly only made it worse and the fact his colleagues and friends now knew his secret meant the past twelve days had been a personal kind of hell for him. Everything had conspired to push and push at his defences and as a result he was now walking a very fine line between resistance and utter submission.

Jack finished fondling the crop and let his gloved hand drop to Ianto's arm, fingers brushing over his skin with the same slow motions, tracing a winding path from elbow to wrist. "I hope I've tied these tight enough," Jack said casually. "I know you're going to struggle." He stroked the back of Ianto's hand lightly before returning to the coarse material of the bonds. "Although the more you fight, the more you'll mark your own skin."

The words struck Ianto hard, the vision of enduring red bands wrapped around his wrists filling his mind with an alarming thrill of need. Evidence of his previous activities had always been hidden on his back, with only the occasional glimpse of colour around the side of his chest, but never had he allowed Alex to use anything other than padded restraints on so visible an area as his arms. To be marked in such a way that would leave telling signs that lasted for days, if not an entire week, was a notion that managed to set the young man's heart racing even faster than before.

Jack made his way around the end of the desk, trailing his fingers along Ianto's arm to his shoulder. Spurred into action by the movement, Ianto placed his hands flat upon the desk and pushed himself as far upright as he could manage. Jack's caressing continued, unhampered by the young man's wary shifting, leather gloves gliding over the quivering muscles of Ianto's back to the opposite shoulder.

The position meant that Jack now leaned into his side, face close to Ianto's own, though the Welshman refused to look at him at such a distance; fearing that – as often happened – mere eye-contact would cause Jack to kiss him.

"You may be surprised to hear this," Jack told him. "But I haven't actually done this kind of thing much in the past." His warm breath swept over Ianto's cheek as he laughed softly. "And when I did, it wasn't for any psychological reason, so you'll have to tell me if I'm not doing it right."

Ianto swallowed. "And what if I tell you to stop?"

"Try it and see."

The tongue of the short whip traced over Ianto's bicep; the dark leather contrasting with his pale skin. Ianto watched it moving, absently aware of the other gloved hand creeping towards his neck. He opened his mouth but nothing came out.

There was a part of him that wanted to throw a full-bodied tantrum, to yell out and yank on his restraints, to turn and bash his forehead into Jack's nose. At some point, in the past day or so, he had apparently pushed the older man too far, and now Jack seemed determined to make things right by forcing the issue.

And yet on the flipside, there was another part that knew he needed precisely what Jack was offering. Though there had been a rather satisfying encounter at the shooting range, where Ianto had regained the upper hand for a brief delicious moment, the stress of the last few weeks had simply been building and building. It was clear, even to himself, he wouldn't last much longer before a complete breakdown had him begging for help, but he really hadn't wanted his lover to be the one to administer the treatment and that lack of choice struck him as both ironic and frustrating.

"You've been a very bad boy recently," said Jack, abruptly pulling back and breaking all contact with Ianto's body.

The young Welshman barked out a weak laugh at the clichéd line and the loud slap of leather against skin echoed around the office. Ianto jumped at the sound and a second later the sting of a sharp blow registered upon his hip.

"Don't laugh at me," Jack commanded.

Ianto blinked in surprise, having never truly believed Jack would hit him until that moment, but beyond the shock was something far more overwhelming; his reaction to that tone of voice, the Captain-voice. His breath caught to hear it at this precise time, whilst he was tied up and helpless, and blood rushed to stain his cheeks with a deep flush of shameful delight.

"You've been a very bad boy," the immortal said again, and this time Ianto made no noise at all. "You've caused all kinds of trouble. Do you know how selfish you've been recently?"

Ianto remained silent, half-convinced he could resist if he didn't give into the game.

"I asked you a question, Ianto." The crop struck his hip again, a blow that was made more effective through humiliation rather than just pain. "Do you know how selfish you've been?"

"I wasn't doing anyone any harm," declared Ianto in defiance.

"Don't lie." Another hit landed across the top of his back. "You know very well how you've caused Tosh to worry. Even Owen's been troubled by your behaviour. And as for me..." Jack moved behind Ianto, leaning into his other side before he continued. "I've been torn between concern and fury."

"Fury?" Ianto echoed the word to himself; of all the emotions he might have expected to awaken within the Captain, fury was not one of them. Jack was rarely spurred to anger, much less rage, so to think that his actions of late had managed to do just that... Ianto gulped down a sudden lump in his throat. How had he allowed this situation to get so out of hand that others were suffering because his own weaknesses?

The leather whip slapped almost playfully, yet firmly, down Ianto's spine to the swell of his buttocks and the young man flinched in memory of Alex's spanking, his heart pounding in his chest. Jack leaned over to speak into his ear again.

"You need to be taught a lesson in humility, Ianto Jones," he said, lips brushing against Ianto's skin. The leather tongue slipped into the crack of his ass and Ianto's entire body jerked as it passed over his hole.

"Ah!" he cried out in sudden alarm. "No!"

The crop continued downwards, over the sensitive perineum, until it rested against his testicles. "Yes," Jack corrected, almost as an afterthought.

"No, no," Ianto chanted, screwing up his face as though he could block out the sensations that way. "Not there, never there."

He jerked again when the tongue started to move, rubbing at his balls. He shook his head as his body responded swiftly to the stimulation, the leather hard and unyielding and a silent threat of pain.

Jack tilted his head in feigned confusion. "Never?" He clicked his tongue. "You told me yourself _he_ touched you here. In fact, I even saw it for myself, didn't I?"

"It wasn't about sex!" Ianto wailed, his voice lifting in desperation. He'd always feared Jack wouldn't understand his motivation and now it seemed he was right to have worried.

"I know that," the immortal assured him. "It was about humiliation and vulnerability. Now tell me, as I'm doing this to you, you're embarrassed, aren't you? You're vulnerable."

Ianto dragged in a huge breath – he refused to acknowledge it as a sob – as he recognised that statement as almost exactly what Alex had said to him during their last full session. It might have sexual overtones, but Ianto couldn't deny that the current situation certainly robbed him entirely of control.

The only problem was that when it had been Alex's hands upon him, he hadn't felt even a fraction of what he now felt with Jack's ministrations – Jack, who wasn't strictly even touching him, and yet who had him hard and aching from a few restraints and a riding crop. He whimpered pathetically, sensing his resolve unravelling before him, spiralling away into a black hole from which it could never return.

If he allowed Jack to finish this, he knew for sure there would be no going back.

Ianto realised with a start that, as he'd been lamenting, his hips had begun to rock with the movement of the leather tongue, urging more pressure against the delicate skin surrounding his balls. Jack was chuckling hot breath into his ear, his free hand lifting to pinch Ianto's nipples.

The young man gasped and tried to move away from the firm touch, only to be brought up short by his bonds. He let out a cry of panic, the sound made hoarse by his escalating pleasure. "Stop! Red! RED!"

The entire scene froze at his cry; the crop still pressed to his testicles, the gloved fingers splayed on his chest, the heat of Jack's body burning along his left side.

"Red?" Jack repeated thoughtfully. "Is that your safeword?"

Too mortified to speak, Ianto merely nodded.

"Hmm, red for 'stop'. Clever. I guess green means 'more' then, yes? What's yellow though? 'You're pushing your luck if you think I'm going to do _that_'?"

Ianto didn't respond. His arms were beginning to shake from holding himself up, his knuckles white where he gripped the edge of the desk, but he knew if he allowed his body to move an inch it would cause the crop to rub against him once more and he'd be done for.

Jack laughed at his own joke, the sound warm and familiar. It was one Ianto had heard many times in the past, sometimes even when he'd been sprawled half-naked across this very desk, but never had he imagined hearing it whilst he was completely trussed up like this.

The warmth of Jack's close proximity abruptly vanished as he stepped back, removing both hand and crop. Ianto found he was still frozen, not entirely sure what he felt about the loss, and when Jack's fingers reappeared in his eyeline to unbuckle the cuff around his right wrist before disappearing again, he couldn't even move his newly released arm.

"Okay," Jack said, setting the crop down on the desk. "If that's what you want."

Then he was walking away and Ianto was alone, head spinning and mouth dry.

His arousal throbbed persistently and he couldn't say for certain that he was glad for the turn of events. He'd been presented with the opportunity to free himself from all his current tension, in a manner that was almost assuredly going to be _wonderful_, and he'd just turned it down.

Every nerve in his body screamed for release, unable to bear it any longer, and even should Jack let him not only untie his bonds but allow him to leave the Hub as well, he wasn't sure how he could find a solution to his problem. Or perhaps he should say a solution that wasn't falling upon his knees before Jack and pleading for him to help.

The edge was near, not the crest of pleasure but the precipice of a pit he suspected had no bottom and it seemed it had become time to choose whether he step forward or back.

Ianto bit his lip, his eyes fixed on his right hand. Unfettered, and shaking slightly, it looked so innocuous against the dark wood of the desk, so alien that he wondered if it was truly attached to his body. He could move the fingers, meaning it clearly belonged to him, and he could feel the scratched surface beneath his palm, the hard edge of the leather thong beside his little finger.

Could he do it? Could he surrender? Was it possible?

His little finger twitched, then it was moving, sliding across the loop so the rest of his hand was forced to follow and fold around the newly discovered toy until the unforgiving leather dug into his skin.

A heavy footstep marked Jack's return and Ianto gasped quietly as he realised his time was up. He turned his head, dragging his gaze away from his hand to look up at the man standing just inside the doorway. Jack was still dressed in coat and hat, and he ran his eyes over Ianto's body until they settled on the fist clutching the crop. His lips twisted upwards and he stepped closer, stooping slightly to pick up the abandoned cuff from the floor.

Ianto waited for him to speak, expecting to be questioned on why he hadn't moved, but instead Jack merely held open the restraint within Ianto's reach.

The younger man swallowed, considering the cuff briefly before making himself meet Jack's eyes. There was an openness there, a final offering of refusal, but also an intensity that Ianto knew in his gut would cease to exist if he called a halt right then.

Perhaps it could work. Perhaps he could keep everything separate. Jack seemed a master of that trick some days, and Ianto had been pretty proficient himself before all the mess with Lurrelia, so maybe, if he tried hard enough, he could reclaim that ability.

Licking his lips, Ianto opened his hand and lifted it slowly, warily reaching out until his wrist sat atop the black band.

Jack smiled as he buckled the cuff, retightening the cord that linked it to one of the desk's legs until Ianto was immobile once more. After a sharp tug to test the resistance, Jack nodded and moved around behind him again, picking up the riding crop in one hand and trailing the other up over Ianto's arm as he moved.

Struggling to keep a hold of his reactions, Ianto was hyper-aware of every place Jack touched, his anticipation so great that his skin even burned ahead of the Captain's gloved digits. When the head of the crop returned to its earlier position beneath his balls, a moan erupted from his lips and he pushed back against the invading item just once before he managed to stop himself.

Fingers curled around Ianto's weeping cock, the leather cool and smooth, and his hot flesh twitched eagerly at the contact. Ianto bit back another moan, determined not to let his body betray him so easily, but when the crop started to move again, synchronising with the pumping of the Captain's hand, Ianto yanked at his restraints, gasping aloud at the mix of pleasure and pain. After only a few tugs, he came with a sharp gasp, as fast as a teenager who'd just discovered the wonders of his own fist.

Jack continued to work Ianto's cock, milking it, covering it in the thick liquid he'd caught in his hand before stroking the rest of the young man's seed up over his bare chest. The touch of the riding crop disappeared again as Jack abandoned it to instead cup Ianto's balls tightly, squeezing as he twitched and shuddered his way down from the abrupt orgasm.

"Are you happy now?" Ianto managed to say a few minutes later. He might have given in, but he wasn't going to let Jack have an easy ride of it. If he wanted to take on the responsibility of dominating the younger man, then Ianto was damned sure he was going to get his proverbial money's worth. "You got to dress up and _help_."

Jack removed both hands from the other man's body and absently licked one of his fingers, unperturbed by the snide comment. "I don't think I've helped much yet," he said, "so no, I'm not happy. Maybe when you give into me completely I will be." He peeled off his gloves and let them drop to the floor with a damp slap, then leaned over to press his lips to Ianto's shoulder.

"I promise I won't stop until then," he murmured against the sweat-slicked skin.


	19. Chapter 19

Jack pulled back, watching the muscles quivering beneath the spot he'd just kissed.

He still couldn't help but feel conflicted over his decision to take this step, but he truly believed it was the only way to resolve the issue, to bridge the gap that had opened up between them, and once and for all draw Ianto out from the consumptive gloom which had clung to him for so long now.

Though it hurt to push Ianto to the absolute brink, it equally pained Jack to see the way he was slowly sinking into himself and away from the world around him. The façade he still hid behind might fool most, but Jack could see beneath the mask, he knew how to recognise the pain now, the nameless _need_, and if answering that need filled the hollow slowly engulfing Ianto, then Jack was willing to do whatever it took to answer it.

It was for that reason he had been determined to keep going, no matter what Ianto declared he wanted, or _didn't _want. He had, however, remained conscious of the other man's reactions, both verbal and, in particular, physical and Jack had hoped to be able to tell before things went too far, for he wanted only to _show_ Ianto the abyss, to take him to the edge and let him peer into the shadows, before gently easing him back into the light.

The younger man's use of his safeword had surprised Jack, he'd thought Ianto so close to breaking that his resistance would be minimal. He had feared his last chance to help Ianto cope was lost, but when he'd gone back into the office, concerned when Ianto hadn't immediately stormed past him, the fact that the half-restrained man hadn't moved at all to untie his other bonds resurrected Jack's dashed hopes.

Smiling faintly, Jack removed his cap and tossed it onto a nearby chair. His greatcoat swiftly followed, as he reluctantly conceded that Ianto had been right to mock his outfit. He'd dug the gloves and cap out from his box of tricks for all the wrong reasons, naively believing this kind of play demanded such props. Instead he'd managed to cheapen the experience, to give across the tone of insensitivity, as though he found the matter trivial; nothing more than a game.

The intent had been there, however, the wish to mark this occasion with something that made it personal, something that would distinguish him from Alex. At the time, becoming the 'Captain' seemed the ideal solution, but Jack now saw the folly in that notion.

He glanced towards the chair. It really was a shame he'd been so hasty. He'd been saving that cap for a while now, tucked away with the riding crop amongst a collection of items that he hoped to surprise Ianto with at random points in the future. He had even made sure to keep them safely hidden in his bunker, the one place he refused Ianto permission to tidy – a man had to take _some_ pride in his own home – but after all that effort, he'd just used them without true consideration of what was best for such an affair.

Jack set his jaw and began to roll up his shirt sleeves. It was too late to change that now, just as it was too late to fully prepare for this entire situation. Having only realised what he had to do earlier that day – whilst watching Ianto polish the boardroom table for the fourth time – it hadn't left much time for research, especially as he'd first had to send the others away and then reroute the Rift alarms to Tosh and Owen's phones so he wouldn't be interrupted at a pivotal moment.

After a few minutes, Ianto started to regain his composure, pushing himself back up on shaking arms. Jack waited, expecting any number of sharp insults or demands for freedom from the Welshman, but there came nothing. The flare of defiance after he'd submitted and allowed Jack to bring him to orgasm had suggested Ianto would continue to play the insolent captive, but maybe Jack had read that wrong and instead he was simply going to be silent and let everything wash over him.

The Captain didn't like that idea at all. He needed to hear Ianto's speak to make sure he was doing the right thing, so he decided to take another route.

Reaching out, he combed his fingers through the younger man's hair, down the side of his face to his chin and tilted it around to better see his expression. Ianto's lips were pressed tightly together, his eyes directed firmly aside.

Jack smiled faintly at his lover's stubbornness. He hadn't expected any different and he would have been surprised, if not suspicious, had Ianto suddenly begun to respond amiably. Releasing the other man's face, Jack moved his hands back onto Ianto's shoulders and started to gently knead the rigid flesh.

"You're still very tense," he observed. "You need to learn to relax, Ianto. Remember how I'm always telling you to relax...?" He said the last in a purr, pushing his hips just slightly against Ianto's backside.

Ianto snorted lightly in derision, but he still said nothing, which simply served to drive Jack to work harder for a reaction. He slid his hands down a little, pressing his thumbs into the muscles running alongside the young man's spine whilst his fingers skimmed gently over the heated skin.

"It's amazing that you have no obvious scars here," the Captain commented idly. "It takes skill to whip someone without breaking the skin too deeply."

The comment hung in the air and Jack fancied he could actually feel the intrigue building within the muscles he lightly massaged.

"What do you know about that?" Ianto finally asked. His voice was tight, like the question had been unwillingly torn from his lips.

Jack gave a short and bitter laugh. "I've been whipped in my time. It was a favoured punishment in some of the places I visited for the Agency. Of course _they_ weren't trying to avoid leaving marks."

Again the heavy pause, whilst Ianto's curiosity struggled against his stubbornness. "You haven't got any scars on your back."

"No," Jack agreed, "not anymore. Fortunately the Agency had access to some rather clever medical tools that took care of them."

"Why were you-"

"That isn't a story for right now," Jack cut him off, digging his fingers harder into the flesh of Ianto's lower back. "And you aren't going to distract me by asking to hear it."

There came a grunt of discomfort at the increased pressure. "Jack," Ianto murmured quietly, "you can stop now."

Jack didn't even pretend to consider the suggestion. "Nope, don't think so." He briefly continued to work at the tense muscles, before dropping his hands abruptly to Ianto's ass and grabbing it hard. The younger man's body jerked but he made no noise nor protest and Jack marvelled at the continued obstinacy.

"It's fascinating," Jack declared absently, kneading Ianto's buttocks as he spoke, "all the times I've touched you in the past, all the times I've been back here with you spread before me..." He paused, giving the memories the time they deserved. "All those times, and you never once trembled like you're trembling now."

Ianto remained silent, his head dipping as though too heavy to hold up any longer.

"I'm curious," the Captain went on. "Is it because you're tied up? Is it because I'm not being gentle?" he asked. "Or is it because you want me to keep going?" His thumbs slid closer together as he continued to massage Ianto's ass, passing dangerously close to his twitching hole, and the sharp intake of breath that followed told Jack all he needed to know.

He freed one hand and brought it around to Ianto's face. "Suck them," he ordered in a low voice, curling his fingers towards the other man's mouth.

Ianto moved his head back, away from the presented digits, refusing to comply. "Suck them yourself," he growled rebelliously.

"Suck them or I'll stick them in dry." Jack let the words hang in the air for a moment, realising too late that the threat might not be suitable to encourage Ianto's cooperation. He moved his other hand down between Ianto's legs, grasping his testicles and causing him to spasm once more in surprise.

"Do it," Jack urged, squeezing Ianto's balls to make clear the consequences of further disobedience.

The Welshman was evidentially not prepared to risk quite that level of pain just yet and he opened his lips to take Jack's fingers into his mouth.

"Good," the older man purred, working his fingers in and out of the wet heat as Ianto hungrily wrapped his tongue about them. Jack's other hand continued to cup the young man's balls, massaging them as he'd massaged Ianto's shoulders.

"When it's on your terms, it doesn't feel like this, does it?" Jack eyed the slick skin of the captured man's back, tempted to taste the dampness there. "Even though you gave _him _control over your body, you were still ultimately calling the shots. You let him know what you wanted, what he could do to you and the limits of your tolerance."

Ianto's arms were shaking again by the time Jack withdrew his fingers from his mouth.

"It makes me wonder if being utterly out of control would come as a shock to you." Jack shifted position and pressed two wet fingers firmly into Ianto's ass, then gave into the lure and ran his tongue over the glistening shoulder blade beneath him. He hooked his other hand beneath Ianto's stomach, holding him up as his entire body rocked with each rough pass over his prostate.

"Ah!" Ianto gasped, his head dropping further as his back arched and his hips surged forwards, instinctively seeking escape from the intrusion, but his thighs bounced off the edge of the desk, pushing him back onto Jack's fingers and merely compounding the issue.

Jack refused to grant him any reprieve, encouraged by the physical responses to his touch, especially as Ianto's cock once again hung heavily between his legs, engorged and dark with blood. He added a third wet digit and took another lick of the sheen upon Ianto's skin before pulling back a little, watching his fingers plunging into the tight ring of muscle and considering how to push his lover even further towards the edge.

His eye caught upon the riding crop he'd discarded earlier, lying abandoned on the floor by his feet. "Hmm," he said thoughtfully and abruptly removed both his hand from Ianto's stomach and the fingers from his ass.

The young man crumpled onto the desk with a cry of surprise as he was released, panting at the sudden freedom. Jack gave him no time to recover, however, as he straightened from retrieving the crop.

"What do you suppose _this _would feel like...?" he asked, trailing the handle of the short whip up the back of Ianto's thigh.

They hadn't played with toys before, it never even coming up as an idea during their casual sporadic nights together. Jack hadn't been sure how Ianto would respond to them; he wasn't close-minded and could well have played with his female partners in the past, but he hadn't brought up the subject and Jack had decided to give it time, wishing to make sure Ianto was definitely okay with his first male lover before taking things further.

Jack was almost positive that once he'd experienced the variety toys could add to intercourse, Ianto would be converted. He wasn't shy in bed, or wherever else they might end up, and though the image he presented to the outside world was normally so perfect and pristine, Jack had witnessed the playful imp that resided within the sharp suits.

Ianto jumped at the unexpected touch on his leg, yelping gracelessly and surging forward in surprise. He banged his legs against the edge of the desk, turning his cry into a hiss of pain, and Jack leaned in to hook his arm beneath Ianto's torso again, pulling him back up as he dragged the thin leather shaft over the swell of his backside.

Ianto struggled, guessing his intent. "No," he moaned, though he'd voiced more fervent protests that evening.

The Captain chuckled and held on tighter to the squirming man.

"Haven't you done enough?" Ianto asked. He tried to move away from the nearing object but his bonds held firm.

"You tell me," Jack countered. "How much does it take for you to _really_ let go?" He flattened his hand, crop handle rolling beneath his palm across the firm flesh of Ianto's buttock.

There was a moment of tense hush, broken only by Ianto's ragged breathing, and for a brief second Jack thought that he might have finally asked the right question at the right time; that perhaps Ianto would now tell him precisely what he really wanted.

That or Ianto thought he'd stepped over the line and would once again call a halt to proceedings.

But instead the Welshman shook his head and declared, "It's disgusting." It sounded so petulant that Jack actually forgot about his ministrations for a moment and bent down to see the other man's profile, enjoying the sight of Ianto pouting

"I swear it's clean," Jack pointed out, intentionally mistaking him.

Ianto huffed and rolled his eyes, then jerked to the side, his shoulder in reach to hit Jack where he was leaning one elbow on the desk to see Ianto's face whilst still caressing his backside. The Captain almost lost his balance but recovered quickly and responded with a smack of the crop's tongue against one rounded cheek.

"Behave," he warned, "or I'll make you regret it."

"I already regret it," Ianto muttered.

Jack hesitated briefly, then smiled again to himself. He knew the younger man too well to believe that. Ianto had consented and they'd established how he could stop things already, so his words now were nothing more than hot air.

But they did present an interesting opportunity...

* * *

"That's a shame."

Ianto's head whipped around as Jack stepped away from his body again, leaving him cold and exposed. He blinked, alarmed by the sudden desertion. Surely that couldn't be it; surely Jack wouldn't give up now, after everything he'd done, from a mere suggestion of regret?

"Wait!" he said, watching in amazement as a silent Jack moved to the front of the desk, one hand drifting to the nearest of Ianto's bound wrists, as though to unfasten it once more. Surely not. _Surely_ not. Ianto stared up at him, eyes wide with confusion and panic. "Wait, no, please! Please!" he went on, terrified that it was all about to end, when they'd come so far.

Jack settled his hand lightly over Ianto's, his own eyes flickered up to meet the unnerved gaze of the younger man and Ianto's mouth froze on the cusp of further pleading. The knowing glint in those blue eyes was offset by familiar warmth and humour and Ianto realised just how easily he'd just been played.

"Told you you'd beg," Jack smirked, removing his hand from Ianto's without even touching the cuff.

Ianto swallowed a laugh, then a curse, then finally dropped his head, unable to look at the immortal anymore. His face was hot with excitement but also embarrassment; he was laid completely and utterly bare before the Captain for the first real time, no longer able to deny that he wanted this, wanted Jack to own him, that Jack _already_ owned him and always had done, right from the moment they'd met.

Ianto mentally chided himself. No, that wasn't right. When they'd met he had belonged to Lisa still; he'd pledged his life to her and promised that nothing would stand in the way of bringing her back to him. It was after her death, after Jack had killed her but refused to kill Ianto, _that_ was when it had happened.

That was when Ianto had realised the void in his heart, a void that had been growing ever since Lisa had been caught by the Cybermen, could be filled by Jack, by loyalty to Jack, and he could live again, _really live_, because that devotion gave his life meaning, a purpose for his existence in the universe.

"So," Jack murmured, his low husky voice bringing Ianto crashing back into the moment, "what shall we do next?"

There was another question hidden beneath those words, lurking in the brightness of his eyes that hadn't been there before. Jack had proven, to both Ianto and to himself, that he'd done the right thing; he'd exposed Ianto's true desire for this situation, for Jack to take a dominating role in his life and now all that remained was to see if Ianto would accept Jack's triumph or continue to fight him.

Of course, as far as Ianto was concerned, his answer had been given the moment he'd shown his dismay at Jack's act of falsely retreating. What good was there now in trying to deny it had happened, when he knew that the truth had been scripted across his face for anyone to see?

The silence dragged on and Ianto was unable to do anything but stare up at Jack, his mind numb with defeat after being bested by the unquestionably stronger man.

"Answer me," Jack insisted, a little more authority in his tone this time and a lot more satisfaction in his expression, as it became clear that Ianto finally realised he had nowhere left to hide.

A curious lightness settled over the young Welshman, a mix of both acceptance and relief. It was over, the fight had been lost, and Ianto felt like he'd been broken into a thousand pieces with no idea how to start gathering all the shards together again.

He said the only thing that made sense.

"Whatever you want."

"Oh?" Jack asked, leaning forward with interest. "Behaving now, are we?"

Ianto's gaze drifted to the side, unable to counter the strength in Jack's intense eyes and a little unwilling to see the image of himself reflected within them. He didn't reply, the answer so plain it hardly needed reiterating.

Fingers threaded through Ianto's hair to his neck and Jack tipped the young man's head back. "Well in that case, I want a kiss," Jack said, bringing his face down towards Ianto's. "I want a nice, convincing, kiss."

Ianto immediately opened his mouth, just in time for Jack's to crash hard against it. The Captain went about the kiss with the same enthusiasm he always employed for such activities, massaging Ianto's lips with his own until they tingled with sensitivity. There was no resistance as Jack snuck his tongue inward, flicking mischievously at everything it encountered, never lingering, and Ianto responded greedily to the well-known sensation.

There might have been some obstinate part of Ianto's mind still opposed to the liberties Jack was taking with his body, but it stood no chance at being heard beneath the roaring in Ianto's ears, as his heart began to race with the intensity of Jack's kiss. There was always such feeling in Jack's ministrations, and this was certainly no exception; though it was perhaps the first contact they'd engaged in that night which could be considered physically intimate.

The hand upon Ianto's cheek was warm and the fingers curled around his neck stroked gently at the short hairs there, sending a shiver along his spine that only heightened the already overwhelming feeling of the kiss.

Little by little Jack pulled back, forcing Ianto to follow, and when they broke apart, gasping against damp lips, Ianto found himself leaning up on fully extended arms, straining forward. He remained there, breathless, eyes hooded, his desire for more of the Captain's touch clear in the way he stretched forward.

Jack grinned down at him, smug at the reaction he'd drawn out. "Good," he murmured, tilting Ianto's head just a faction further upwards, as though to reiterate the needful position into which the young man had allowed himself to be moulded. Jack licked his lips. "Very good."

The praise warmed Ianto just as much as the devouring kiss, but at the same time the pleasure he felt at hearing that approval made his cheeks flush even deeper with shame for his longing. He wanted to jerk away, but it seemed the gentle hold Jack still had upon his face was enough to keep his muscles from obeying his brain's commands.

"I think you've finally learnt," Jack went on, exploring Ianto's face with light fingertips that left designs of fire upon his cheeks. He leaned forward; not to kiss, but to whisper against Ianto's lips. "_Here endeth the lesson_."

The Captain's tongue darted out to taste him and Ianto mindlessly reached to capture it, but he met only air as Jack backed off without warning. Ianto's mouth formed an 'O' of surprise, another ice-cold thrill of panic surging through his veins as yet again it seemed everything was about to end.

With a knowing leer, Jack took advantage of the young man's confusion to move around once more to the other side of the desk, where he plastered himself to Ianto's back, covering the naked body with his own. He wrapped strong fingers around Ianto's bound wrists and pushed his lips against one red ear. "But the night has just begun," he growled hotly. "And I couldn't stop now if I tried."

Ianto gasped, body jolting as rising disappointment was swept away with those simple words. His head fell back, hitting Jack's shoulder and the immortal licked greedily at his damp neck whilst rocking his still-clad groin against Ianto's ass.

"Ah!" yelped the young man. What had seemed an age of satisfying distress now morphed into something new and even more wonderful and he cried out eagerly. "Jack!"

Chuckling, the sound deep with lust and need, Jack quickly unfastened his trousers to release his burning erection. It was the first time Ianto had been aware of Jack's hardness, and when he later looked back on the incident, the more rational part of his mind would suspect it was also the first time Jack had responded physically that night, but for the time being all Ianto could think of was how Jack was about to claim his reward for his evening's work.

His hole, already partly stretched and slick, was still tight around the head of Jack's cock as he guided himself in without further delay. The older man didn't wait for the muscles to adjust, instead sliding in with determination and hunger.

Ianto's hands moved clumsily forward to grip the edge of the desk, seeking an anchor to counter Jack's immediate powerful thrusting, and his thighs were bashed into the wood again, hard enough to bruise, yet not nearly hard enough to make Ianto cry out in protest.

Each inward push, though smoothed by sweat and experience, reached so deep that Ianto was convinced he was about to split right up the middle. His insides churned, making him feel almost nauseous at the intrusion, but the sensation of being so thoroughly filled, of hard flesh rubbing over his prostate with every plunge, twisted that ache around and lifted him higher than ever.

Jack grabbed at his hips, using the leverage to change his angle, making his thrusts even longer and deeper and Ianto's body tried to fold back on itself, simultaneously seeking and retreating from the source of such delicious torment. The dried semen on his chest pulled the skin painfully tight and his cock, raw with over-attention, stung with every accidental brush against the desk.

"I have a confession," Jack said suddenly, and, though he continued to fuck Ianto with an incredible amount of enthusiasm, his voice was only just showing signs of breathlessness.

Ianto gave a strangled sound of objection, unable to form real words as he was slammed repeatedly against the unrelenting furniture, but also unwilling to hear any declaration that could come to Jack's mind at a time like this. Why couldn't he just grab the poor neglected dick jutting out in front of Ianto and focus on the task at hand?!

"Back then," the immortal went on, directly into Ianto's ear, so that warm air accompanied each word and made him shiver at the new stimulation. "When Lurrelia made my touch give you pain and I couldn't stop myself..." Jack slipped his hands around beneath the bound man, pinching hard at abused nipples. "When I hurt you and you loved it..." He pulled back further than usual and for one horrendous moment Ianto was terrified he was about to withdraw completely. "When I made you cry out with pleasure and agony..." Jack thrust in so deeply that Ianto was forced up onto his toes, ankle restraints cutting into his skin, and then froze, holding a tableau of unexpected, incomplete, impossible need.

Lips moved against Ianto's ear, so close it seemed the words travelled no distance at all before swelling to fill his mind.

"_I loved it too_."

Then the final push: fast jolts over the last line of pain, contraction, nerves set afire and muscles pushed too far. The air broke with a strangled moan loud enough for two or else the combination of entwined lovers. White fingers gripped the edge of the desk, warm fingers caressed spent flesh that tingled as though sparks of electricity danced across the damp skin.

Lazy circles of hips, the descent of fervour, perhaps reluctance to finish, and a kiss to the sensitive spot behind an ear.

Satisfaction.

Agonizing, absolute, satisfaction.


	20. Chapter 20: Monday

A/N: Okay folks, this is the last chapter of Part One, but please don't think the story is finished! There is a LOT more to come - after all, we still need to see what happens to Gwen, what happens to the boys, and what, of course, happens to the alien slugs (anyone remember them?). Part Two will begin soon, after a brief intermission, and yes, there will be half-time entertainment... ;)

Thanks for all your support!

* * *

Ianto awoke with great effort, struggling up into consciousness as though swimming through treacle. He was warm, surrounded by comforting heat, and the idea of further sleep beckoned loudly. It was only the weight of an arm draped possessively over his side that stopped him from drifting off again.

It was Jack's arm, no doubt about it, and the rest of his body was pressed along the length of Ianto's back. His breathing stirred the hairs at the nape of Ianto's neck, tickling lightly at his skin. The Welshman knew the cadence of that even breath, had heard it before on the nights Jack slept instead of merely dozed, and he was infinitely glad that this was one of those rare occasions.

Ianto stared at the rough wall in front of him, soaking in the normality of the situation whilst he could. He knew the moment Jack woke reality would crash down upon him and he'd be forced to admit to himself what had happened the night before.

The man behind him shifted, one hand idly running over Ianto's stomach before he settled again. Ianto swallowed hard; who was he kidding? There was no way he could stop from thinking about what they'd done, what he'd allowed Jack to do to him, whether his lover was awake or not.

Ianto's chest tightened as he recalled the feeling of helplessness he'd experienced; tied to the desk and held ready for whatever whim took the Captain's fancy. There had been pain, as he'd hoped, but it had been interspersed with moments of intense pleasure, as he'd imagined. He'd felt freedom and shame and ecstasy and all of it countless times better than anything he'd felt at Alex's hands.

With a gentle sigh, Ianto's eyes slid shut. He felt none of those things now; instead there was only something he'd been hoping to avoid, though deep down he knew it'd been unavoidable from the start. In not fighting Jack harder, in relinquishing his control and exposing every dark corner of his being to the older man, Ianto had allowed his tarnished heart to open once more, after promising himself it would never happen again.

Though he'd been fighting the inevitable all along, there was no doubt about it; by giving himself so entirely to Jack, he'd fallen that last fateful step into love.

A sharp breath caught in Ianto's throat (not a whimper, definitely not a whimper) and a great sense of sadness washed over him. It wasn't love itself with which he had a problem – though in truth he'd had more than his fair share of bad experiences in that area – it was instead the fact there was no chance of it ending well for him.

There were only two directions in which such an emotion could take him in this particular scenario; Jack would either grow bored with him, find another lover and Ianto would fade into the background, or else he'd leave all together, disappearing off with his Doctor back to the stars amongst which he belonged. And that wasn't self-pity talking either, Ianto told himself, it was a very distinct possibility. For all that Jack claimed to have returned to Earth for good after his vanishing act earlier that year, he still kept a very determined ear to the ground for any information that might suggest the Doctor had appeared again.

So Ianto knew he was setting himself up for a fall; he'd been aware of the risk for some time now, but had valiantly kept a wall around his heart, holding his emotions firmly in check to minimise the pain when it all broke apart. The young Welshman bit his lip to keep from groaning in frustration. If only he'd been able to control his perverted needs, Jack wouldn't have found out and insisted upon being a part of it, and Ianto wouldn't have ended up baring his soul to the immortal.

And now that soul belonged to the one person in the world who couldn't promise the same in return.

"I can hear you thinking," Jack mumbled suddenly and Ianto's eyes shot open again in panic. He wasn't ready for this, he needed more time to reign in his emotions and hide them from the older man.

Jack pressed his nose to Ianto's neck and drew in a deep breath. "How're you feeling?"

_Like I want to both scream and kiss you senseless._

"There's no use playing sullen now," Jack went on, his voice still thick with sleep. "You can't deny I've proven my point."

Ianto mulled that over for a minute until he was finally unable to resist asking; "What point is that, then?"

"That it's better with me than a stranger."

Lips touched Ianto's skin and the hand upon his chest drifted south a little. The younger man gave a noncommittal grunt and resumed staring at the concrete wall. "It was different," he conceded, and rather bitterly at that.

Where Alex had been professional, Jack had been like a whirlwind. Ianto felt as though he'd been picked up and dropped from a great height. Of course that wasn't entirely unusual when dealing with the Captain, however this time he'd had the additional sensation of hitting the ground as well, rather than being caught just in time as normal.

"It was better," Jack repeated. "And it worked, didn't it? We're having what could pass as a conversation for the first time in weeks."

"Must be fatigue," Ianto muttered.

Jack gave a quiet laugh, pulling his lover tighter to his chest before turning serious again. "I'll always help when it gets too bad," he said solemnly. "You just tell me, or give me some sign, and I'll make sure you don't have to suffer alone again."

Ianto squeezed his eyes shut at the heady vow. It really wasn't helping his weak attempts to suppress his emotions when Jack said things like that. Dammit, did he even know how that sounded? Was he aware that such a promise could only ever be an empty one?

In that moment Ianto suddenly understood how close love and hate really were.

He might love Jack – impossibly and irrefutably – but he also hated that the older man had taken the very last private thing of Ianto's without a thought for the consequences. He had bound Ianto to him without realising that when the time came to part ways, he would leave behind an entirely broken man.

Ianto sighed, not caring if Jack heard. Perhaps it was his own fault; not being more careful with his secrets, or more convincing with his lies. He really should have been able to stop Jack earlier as well, but he hadn't done a very good job of trying. Even tied up, there had been plenty of opportunities for him to hurt the other man in order to get his point across, and yet he'd taken none of them.

He could have done more, but he hadn't. He'd practically invited Jack to step over that line, and whilst he refused to take all of the blame, he had to at least share it.

Ianto sighed again, to himself this time, and then there was gentle pressure on his shoulder. He rolled over without protest to meet Jack's questing lips, all the while considering the possibility that he was emotionally masochistic, as well as physically.

* * *

To be continued...


End file.
